12 dates
by P. Taylor
Summary: 12 months. 12 blind dates. 12 girls. Many, many chances to find out what she's really looking for.
1. Katherine, the closeted heterossexual

Well, hi! You see, I had this great idea for a fanfiction. It was funny, sexy and romantic – till I wrote it down. =( Anyway, some people that I did NOT threatened to death and are NOT some great friends of mine told me I should post it. So here I am. Hope you guys just enjoy it. ;)

Btw, I'm the kind of girl that laughs and cries when she gets reviews, cause my life's THAT boring, so if any of you want to make me happy... just saying. ;D

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**1. Katherine, the closeted heterossexual**

"No, she's not here yet. Yes, I'm early. No, I'm not excited about it, Kurt! Because it's a goddamn blind date, that's why! What are you talking about? I'm always nice! Ok. Yes, ok. Bye."

I hang up and put the phone into my purse, sip my cosmopolitan and look directly at the guy across the bar in attempt to stop him from coming along. It doesn't work, of course. His friends are all watching from distance and I know they spent the last fifteen minutes going on about what lucky bastard would have the balls to come talk to me. So a few seconds later, he's there.

"Hey, I'm…"

"Seriously." I say, shutting him up from the start. "I'm wearing a Jack Spade mail bag, I have my glasses on and I'm drinking a freaking cosmopolitan. I cannot send a gayer vibe than that. _Seriously. _Are you guys blind or just idiots?"

"What-"

"No."

"But I-"

"Don't." He sighs and turns back to his table as I go back to my drink.

Why would some girl choose such a fucking straight place to have a date is a mystery to me, but I hope she's not late or I'll have to put on my cap. And that's pure lesbian desperation.

"Santana?" I turn my head at the call and my eyes find a smiling face. "Are you Santana Lopez?"

"The one and only."

"Hi. I'm Katherine. Katherine Lillard? Kurt's friend."

"Yes, I- I was waiting for you."

"Did I make you wait for long?" She asks, the soft smile there again. Katherine's wearing a red and black check shirt and her hair is dark blond and short, real short, showing her long neck. And ok, _that_'s a gayer vibe. So I decide to give her a chance.

"No, I was early. Should we get a table?"

"Absolutely."

I get up and follow her through the saloon until a small table where we take sits, front to front.

"I almost didn't recognize you because of the glasses." Katherine says, her hands laced over the table. "At the pictures Kurt showed me, you're not wearing them."

"Yeah, I don't actually need them." I say, taking the Rayban little box out of my purse and accommodating the glasses inside it. "I wear it for hipsters purposes."

"Oh, I see. It suits you nice enough."

"Well, that's the point." She chuckles and I wave at a waiter. "Can I order you a drink?"

"A diet coke will do it for now, thank you."

"No problem." The waiter takes notes and leaves us alone. I don't hurry up to make conversation again. Instead, I let that blake silence take its time as I look at Katherine.

Ok, so I am willing to admit that Kurt is not totally trying to screw me up. Katherine has this pinkish cheeks and big brown eyes. She's thin and tall, with long arms and big hands, and has a very sweet smile when she stops biting her lower lip. I wouldn't say she is properly hot, but definitely cute.

"So… Kurt showed you pictures."

"Yes, he did." Katherine gives me a crooked smile. "I must say you look very cute sleeping with your girlfriend-arm-pillow."

"He does not have a picture of that!"

"He does indeed." She laughs as I make a mental note of stealing Lady Hummel's cell, erase all messages and change every contact name in his agenda to Muppets characters. "Ops, one moment." Katherine reaches for the iphone in her jeans pocket and types a quick message before laying it over the table. "Sorry."

"No problem. Anyway, a bad photo is still more than I had. As long as I knew, this was a _blind date._"

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And you just went for it?"

"Well, not quite like that." I say and Katherine raises her eyebrow in curiosity. "There was some vodka, a bet and a sing off duel involved. But yeah, I went for it."

"Tell me more about that." She wrinkles her nose at me and I shrug.

"I suppose I've been too busy to date the last couple months, and that's been making me a little…"

"Lonely?"

"Bitchy."

"_Oh._"

She grins and her iphone makes the table vibrate under our hands. I automatically look at the screen and read the name "Samuel" before Katherine uses her long fingers to type some more - a wider smile in her face as she does it - and blocks the screen again.

"Then our dear friend Kurt decided to set you up, huh?"

"Yeah, he's that nosey." I sip my drink, looking at Katherine over the glass. "But I'm not sorry."

"Me neither." She smiles sweetly. "So… From where do you know Kurt, anyway?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Well… Let's say that after he showed me your pictures, I didn't bother making many more questions." Katherine blushes as she says it and that kinda makes me reveal the fact that her iphone calls attention again.

"We went through high school together." I respond, but not sure she's even really listening. Her eyes and fingers occupied with Whatsapp needs. "Then he moved to New York, with another friend of ours, Rachel. And I followed moths later. The three of us are still roommates, actually."

"Yeah? I didn't know that. You guys must be real close, then. Living together all this time… Must get along very well." She says, stopping typing just for a second.

"Yeah, it works fine." I mumble as a flash of Rachel screaming that morning about me using her towel again lights into my head.

_"Well, I didn't know it was your towel."_

_"It has my name on it!"_

_"Everything in this house has your name on it."_

_"Not everything, just my stuff!"_

_"All those creams in the bathroom? All the egypit cotton sheets?"_

_"Yes! They're mine!"_

_"You're saying I don't get to use anything that has your name on?"_

_"Exactly!"_

_"How am I supposed to live here this way?"_

_"Get your own stuff, for God's sake!"_

_"You're such a materialist bitch sometimes, you know that?"_

_"What- No- I- Grrr!" _

Yeah, maybe I should get something of mine. Like a tag maker. So I could put my name on stuff as well.

"What about you?" I ask when Katherine finally returns her phone to the table.

"I work at the publishing house that edited Kurt's book."

"Oh, right, that fairy tale thing."

"Yes. I'm on the child literature department, so I was his editor…"

"Is it any good?"

"The book?"

"Yep."

"It's pretty good. He's talented. Creative."

"Yeah, I bet he can make great things with witches, glitter and unicorns."

"He actually does!" Katherine smiles and I do too, till I feel the vibration under my fingers again.

She doesn't even hesitate before taking the iphone to her lap and starting whatsapping again, fast and furious, with a diverted smile on her lips.

"Look, if you're occupied with something else, we could just call this whole thing off."

"What?" She lifts her head and looks at me, trying to understand what I just said. "Oh, no, I'm so sorry." Katherine waves her hand and blushes, her pink face becoming reddish. "It's just this friend of mine, Sam. He's really lonely, cause we always hang out together at Friday nights. He just got out of a relationship and is kinda sad, so… I didn't mean to be rude."

"Maybe we should just reschedule or something."

"No, come on. I really… I won't text anymore." She gives a concerned look to her iphone and then back to me. "It's just… we haven't seen each other in a while. You mind if he just comes over for a sec to say hi? He's around."

"I…" Really? She's really playing this puppy dog eye crap on me? Damn it! "Yes, all right."

"Thanks. I'm so sorry. I'll just tell him to stop by." So I wait while Katherine types a little more and finally – FINALLY – puts the phone into her purse and closes it. In that mean time I ask for another cosmo, cause it seems like I'm gonna need it.

"Another coke?"

"No, thanks." Katherine responds to the waiter and he goes away. "Kurt says you go to NYU, is that right?"

"Yes. I'm taking some advertising and business classes. You know, when you live with two _artists _it's kinda hard not to get involved in the market."

"I can imagine."

"What about you? How did you end up in publishing business?"

"Hmm, I did not end up there. I guess I _started up_ there. My moms own the Magic Publishing. I grew up among books, so… was only natural. They're retiring and I'm taking over."

"Sorry, did you say 'my moms'?"

"Yes." Katherine smiles brightly. "I'm the daughter of two moms."

"That's a nice change. Till now I just knew the daughter of two dads. Once again my point's been proved: women do everything better." Yep, I'll have to repeat that on Rachel's face.

"No doubt about it." She laughs and bits her lip again before looking quickly over her shoulder to the doors, but no one is coming in yet.

"Anyway, must've been much easier to come out, right?

"Sorry, come out with what?"

"Come out gay. I wish I had two moms or two dads. Would skip many awkward conversations like 'yes, I gave boys many chances and still like girls, yes, I'm sure, yes, _just girls'_. Right?"

"Ahm, yes, I guess." Katherine looks confused for a moment then smiles. "It's funny, actually. I never thought of that. I guess I never came out. I mean… of course I'm gay, right? My moms are… I've seen their love for so long. Sure I like girls… How could I not?"

"Hm…" I don't know exactly what to say back at her because she seems to be asking me a real question. And it's not like I can explain how _anyone_ can_ not like_ girls. I'm far from understanding that myself.

"Hey, Kitty."

"Sammy!" She shouts when this big tall guy stops around our table. Katherine gets up fast and hugs him tight as I watch. "You ok?"

"Much better now." He answers, a toothpaste commercial smile in his face.

"You fool."

"You look great tonight, you know."

"That's what girls do to go on dates, _you know_." I say so they can realize I'm still sitting there.

"Oh, Sam, that's Santana Lopez. Santana, that's my friend, Samuel Williams." He extends his arm and I have to shake his hand cause, you know, I'm always nice.

"Nice to meet you, Santana." Samuel says, playing cool, but he is an intruder in a date that could go very well if he was not so needy, so I just smile forcefully back at him because not even baby Jesus would be nice enough to say nice-to-meet-you-too to that guy.

"Are you feeling better? When I let you at home Wednesday night you're a little green."

"Yes, I just had some bad turkey sandwich, no big." And then, guess what? He waits till Katherine sits back, bumps her with his hips, making her slip at the bench, and sits right besides her.

"I told you not to trust that snack bar!" She scolds him, but has a bright smile to warm it. "We went to this very hipster exposition at Soho, on Wednesday. Would be the ideal place to you to wear your glasses." Katherine says to me and I wonder if I should thank her for trying to include me in the conversation.

"Wednesday, huh? I thought you guys haven't seen each other in awhile." I quote, and they both stare at me.

"Yeah, since Wednesday night." Samuel reaffirms, nodding.

"Today is Friday." I tell back, just in case they got lost in the calendar. But they just stare blankly at me, like they have no idea what my point is.

"Hm, what are you girls drinking?" He asks while making a move to call the waiter. Then I realize he's really stopping by. Not passing by. But fucking _stopping _by.

"Oh, nothing strong enough."

"Let's solve that right the way." I sigh heavily but no one seems to notice or to care. They're teasing each other about their drinking preferences.

"You guys excuse me a moment." Katherine just nods and I get my purse and walk to the ladies room.

I place the purse over the sink and capture my phone, cursing between my teeth as I dial. She answers in the fourth ring.

"Hello."

"I'll give you an address. Take note."

"In what purpose, may I know?" Rachel asks and I roll my eyes. She's doing that British accent again.

"So you can come over."

"Why would I do such a thing?"

"Cause I'm asking you to. And lose the accent, will you? You're so not sounding like Adele. In best case scenario, you sound like Emma Watson in first Harry Potter movie, and by that I mean cocky and forced."

"It's always delightful to get in touch with you, Santana. Goodbye."

"Wait! Rachel, I'm serious."

"Aren't you in a date?"

"Yes. Until this friend of Katherine's showed up and he won't leave. So I need you to come over."

"You want me to double date?"

"Right."

"Sorry, can't do it."

"Oh, cut the crap and hurry up, Berry."

"I'll have you know, Santana, that I have my own agenda that does not include attending to your every request right the way."

"Oh, really? What does it include? Watching Mamma Mia again, shouting along so you won't hear Kurt's new and loud loverboy in the next room? That sounds like a great night."

"That's not what I plan."

"I can hear the menu song of the DVD, Rachel."

"Ok, fine, just text me the freaking address."

"Finally!"

"And he better be cute!" She shouts before I hang up.

I text Rachel in the way back to the table, where it doesn't seem I've been missed at all. Katherine and Samuel are laughing and I just have to glance over them to see his hand resting naturally on her leg. That's when I start to wonder what the hell is going on.

"Hey. I hope you don't mind, but I have a friend coming over too. You know, all lonely souls abandoned in their couches Friday night must be reunited."

"Oh. That's fine." Katherine smiles sheepishly.

"I just figured that since Samuel is already here and doesn't seem to have any other place to get to, we could try a less awkward situation."

"Ahm…"

"Rachel may sound like a little too much at first, but she'll do it for the night. She's hot, I'll give her that. You guys will get entertained, I'm sure." I smile at Samuel and watch his confused yet bubbly face. Yeah, Rachel will find him cute.

"Santana… What are you talking about?"

"A double date." I say and Samuel chuckles as Katherine seems a little pale.

"You got me a date?"

"You bet."

"In the ladies room?"

"I do my thing anywhere."

"That was not necessary." Katherine lets out in a small voice. She's truly intriguing me.

"Sorry, _Kitty_" I blurt, little pissed off "but I don't do tricycle rides."

"Excuse me?"

"You know. With a third wheel."

"Oh, Gosh. Maybe I should get going." Samuel realizes suddenly. I roll my eyes.

"A little too late. Rachel is coming, you're staying."

"Uh, bossy." He grins, seeming amused. I shrug. Katherine doesn't look very pleased, and I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong. Luckily Rachel will arrive soon enough and put on all her weird talk and embarrass herself even more then we all are embarrassed by now.

"So what are we drinking now?"

"Vanilla Vodka." Katherine mumbles and sips her glass.

"Is that strong enough?" Samuel asks me.

"We'll see it soon."

Thankfully, Berry doesn't take too long to show up. My eyes are on the door when she crosses it and I can identify her hot-messy-quick look, which is basically a high ponytail, light eye shadow, tight jeans and tall scarpins. If that doesn't take Samuel's attention away from his very boyish lesbian friend, I'm definitely out of ideas.

"Rachel's here." I announce more than a bit relieved and K. and S. stop laughing at some internal joke to follow my eyes.

"Good evening, guys." Rachel says as she approaches the table.

"Hey…" Katherine and Samuel politely get up to compliment Rachel.

"You must be Katherine. It's a pleasure to meet you. Kurt is all candies and glitter about you."

"Kurt is all candies and glitter. Period." I say and Rachel gives me a reprimand look.

"And you are Katherine's friend, I suppose."

"Samuel Williams, nice to meet you."

"Rachel Berry." She says and they all sit down again, so I have to slid and make room in the bench for Rachel.

"Oh my God! Rachel Berry, of course!" Katherine exclaims suddenly, her brown eyes all excited. "I knew you looked familiar."

"You _the_ Rachel Berry?" Samuel follows Katherine's lead, of course. "From _Autumn Breaking Down_?"

"Yes, I am. You guys know the play?" Oh, great. That's just freaking amazing. Rachel's smile is so damn big that I can count all her white teeth.

"If we know the play? We already went to see it three times!" Samuel goes on.

"It's so great. You're amazing, really. We're fans."

"Oh, thank you so much. I'm happy you guys were satisfactorily entertained."

"You're so going for the Tony this year."

"I'm trying to keep my hopes low." Rachel says in such a shyly voice that would have anyone convinced that she does not have her winning speech already figured out.

"Can't believe we're hanging out with Rachel Berry." Samuel smiles brightly but, for my total confusion, takes Katherine's hand over the table and squeezes. I look at him sorely trying to make him understand that by the end of the night he could be _making out_ with Rachel Berry, if just stands up to get a date of his own.

"You've seen the play, right?" Katherine asks me in her soft voice.

"Yes, I have."

"Isn't it great?"

"Santana thought me and Jeremy, the leading actor, had too little chemistry. That Humphrey, who plays my father, didn't know all the choreography. And that the scenario was just poor." Rachel recites, her eyebrows doing that perfect indulgent arch. Even so, I'm a little amused she remembers my words in such a precise way.

"Really? What a critical audience you are." Katherine says. I just shrug.

"Well, by then we were still an off-Broadway show. The production and the crew are much better now. You should go see the play again sometime." Rachel tells me and I shrug again.

Truth to be told, I had seen the play again. Seven fucking times till now. And yes, it is great and Rachel melts on the stage in every performance in a way that I hardly know how she gets herself out of there by the end. I hardly know how I get myself out of the crowd by the end. But it's not like I'm telling her that. Same way I didn't tell her I was the one sending all those cardless bouquets to her dressing-room in that first week when the play was an off-Broadway mess and I thought no one else would send her flowers – what would make her disappointed and sad.

Thankfully now she is Broadway's new sweetheart and I don't have to spend time or money worrying about that stuff anymore.

"So, Samuel, what do _you_ do?" Rachel asks, using her purr voice. But instead of answering, Samuel and Katherine just look at each other and start laughing again. It goes on for awhile. "What did I miss? That was not the funny part of my allurement speech."

"I don't know, they just do that. They laugh."

"And they are touchy." Rachel whispers, glancing at them across the table. They exchange a few nonsense words and laugh a little more. All the while, Samuel squeezes Katherine's hand and caresses her arm.

"I know, right!" Then I was not crazy, they are a strange couple of friends.

The whole thing does not improve in the next minutes. It just looks like someone switched the cards on that double date game. I was right about bringing Rachel, though. She makes conversation for the four of us and it's less awkward then before. But Samuel and Katherine really seem to have another private chat going on even when they're not talking at all. Most of times I open my mouth is to order drinks.

"Quick, do that foot thing."

"What foot thing?" Rachel asks me confused.

"That caressing sexy thing when you use the heel and the ankle to… You know!"

"I thought you said it was lame and I should never do that again." Berry wrinkles her nose in speculation.

"Not on me!"

"I was practicing! Could not practice in someone I actually wanted it to _work._"

"Well, it works! Just do that on Samuel." I say between my teeth, listening to the jingled laugh of Katherine. Really, Chris Rock would eat his heart out about how funny this Samuel guy seemed to be.

"I will not."

"Why not?"

"Because…" Rachel glimpses at them and sighs heavily. "Because, Santana, they are in love."

I open my mouth to ridicule that affirmation. But I don't. Because I just know she's right. All that laughing and touching and gleaming. I just cannot believe I'll lose my goddamn first date of the year to some weirdo.

"Excuse me, ladies, I gotta hit the toilet." Samuel announces subtly and gets up.

As he departs, Katherine turns her attention at me again, for the first time in many minutes. She's a little blushed but that's nothing to do with me. Nothing at all.

"Are you gay?" I ask directly. I can feel even Rachel, by my side, jump a little.

"What- Yes!" Katherine's answer is almost offended.

"You sure?"

"Santana, what's that?" Rachel asks in a low voice.

"I wanna know if she's sure she's gay." I turn back to Katherine. "You dated girls before? You had relationships?"

"I dated girls before! And I- Well, I haven't quite had relationships, but that doesn't mean anyth-"

"What about chemistry?" I go on. Rachel is hiding her face in a napkin, but I'm pretty sure she's having fun.

"What you mean?" Now Katherine's voice is tense.

"What makes you think you're gay?" I can hear the laugh that Rachel is holding in.

"I- I don't know! It's just natural, that's how I grew up to be. I'm gay. I- I like check shirts." Katherine says like this is a really good argument.

"And?"

"And… And I like my hair short. I always have."

"Dear, do you like _women_?" Rachel finally asks making me nod in agreement.

"Of course I do!"

"Sexually speaking."

"Yes! I… Ok, maybe I haven't got much lucky in that particular subject yet, but-"

"How so?" I question, even though Katherine is already looking dizzy enough.

"Well, maybe I never met some great kisser but that-"

"Rachel, move." I say interrupting Katherine's every-minute-worst speech.

"What?"

"Move!" Rachel jumps up freeing my way till Katherine. She has this surprised look on her face when I take a place next to her in the bench.

"What did I miss?" Samuel is back and his smile dies quietly when he looks at us.

"Some, but the best part is yet to come." I say back at him, and then I turn to the girl besides me and crush our lips together.

She has soft lips that tremble with the surprise of my gesture. Only when I run my nails through the back of her neck they part to take in my kiss. But all the time I can feel her tense, unmoving body.

"What about that?" I ask a moment later, ignoring all the eyes laying on us.

"Well… That was nice. Yes, really nice. Pleasant." Katherine nods, swallowing hard. "Very good technique." She says glancing such a lost look at Samuel, still standing around the table, that is infuriating slash touching.

"Good technique. Ok." I sight and get up again. "Now it's your turn." I say, pushing Samuel again to the sit next Katherine.

"My turn what?"

"You kiss her." I explain calmly, going back to my own place, next to Rachel. She seems so amused that can barely keep herself from smiling.

"What- Santana!" And just then, after all the questioning and insinuating and kissing – just THEN – Katherine looks pissed at me.

"I mean it, Samuel. Kiss her."

"What are you talking about?"

"Call it a scientific test. Or a social experiment. Doesn't matter. Just kiss her."

"Santana, you're way over the line!" Katherine shouts, her cheeks as red as could be.

"Come on, Samuel, be a man. You know you want to. Just kiss her."

"Sam, I-"

"Kiss her!" I demand and he finally makes up his mind, turning to her side and holding her face with his two hands before sealing their lips.

It's nothing more than a long peck but when they break apart Katherine's eyes seem even bigger and lost.

"So is _he_ a great kisser?" I ask, but get no response because a moment later they are kissing again, now much more forcefully and hungrily.

Rachel's laugh suddenly makes its way out of her throat but not even that can separate the entertained couple. They keep kissing, and hugging and cuddling and kissing and kissing and kissing. So I get up again and make a move to tell Rachel to follow me. I leave a few bucks on the table before we go, cause I'm pretty sure those two won't remember there's a check to be paid when they make their way out to the nearest motel room.

"Did you just hook your date up with some random guy?" Rachel asks me as we stand at the sidewalk, waving at cabs.

"Looks like I did." I almost bark back, even though I don't feel as pissed as I should be. "You're a witness: Kurt is not up to plan blind dates; I must be freed from the bet."

"Oh, I don't think the bet said anything about the date having to be _good_."

"What about having to be _gay_?" I ask and Rachel laughs again.

"Hold your breath. The year is just beginning and you'll have many more dates to attend to."

"Goddamn." I curse a little more till a cab parks in front of us.

"Let's just go home." Rachel says and in the way back home we're already going over Mamma Mia's set list.


	2. Sarah, the pyromaniac stalker

Heeey guys. I almost cannot believe that people are actually reading this. I'm so happy about it *-* Thank you so much for the feedback and I hope everybody continues to enjoy it as much as I do.

See, I'll tell you a secret: I don't really have all twelve girls figured out yet. There's room for two or three more. So I was thinking about a little game. If you guys are into that, you could create a character - name, appearance, job, a little personality - and maybe this girl will have her chance with Santana in one of the 12 dates. What you think? Let me know.

Have fun ;) See U soon.

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**2 – Sarah, the pyromaniac stalker **

"I just hate Valentine's Day." Kurt says as we walk through those pink and red streets with hearts and balloons and cupids in the chilly February air.

"Did you know that hearts are actually based in the shape of a woman's ass bending over?" Rachel informs us when a boy in front of a chocolate store gives her a helium balloon.

"Where did you take that from?" I ask watching her tie the balloon to her wrist, like a five years old would.

"From Amy Farrah Fowler."

"Who?"

"_The Big Bang Theory_. There was a marathon last night."

"Oh, can't believe I missed it! I so love watching Jim Parson's sexy nerdy style."

"God. You guys really need a date." I say shaking my head and Kurt gives me an almost assassin look.

"No, Santana. _You_ need a date. So maybe you'll stop scaring away every boyfriend aspirant we bring home." He replies.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"You managed to get eleven cats inside our apartment last week, when you knew Mark was coming over." Rachel accuses me, her forehead wrinkling.

"So what?"

"He's allergic to cats!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"I told you that!" Rachel rolls her eyes and for a moment it looks like she'll stop in the middle of the street just to tap her foot at me. In my defense, this Mark guy is really lame and watching him sneeze his lungs off until his nose swelled to the size of a pumpkin was the most fun Rachel ever had with him, I'm sure. She should thank me.

"I was just making an experiment, ok? If I'm gonna be an old single lady, as it seems you guys think, I'm better get along well with cats."

"You're not gonna be an old single lady." Kurt affirms.

"Surely not. Won't happen! We won't let it." Rachel agrees right the way.

"And why is that?"

"Cause it seems, Ms. Lopez, that if you're not getting some," Kurt puts his girly hands in my shoulders and looks me in the eyes "none of us are getting either."

"Such a drama queen, Hummel."

"Just try to enjoy your date."

"Is she at least into women?" I ask and Kurt rolls his eyes.

"That's a fair question." Rachel says, smiling funny.

"Yes! And she was very excited about meeting you. So play nice."

"What's her name again?"

"Ahn…" He thinks for a moment, scratching his beardless chin.

"You don't remember her name?"

"Well, I don't know her that well, so…"

"What the hell, Kurt! You're setting me up with some random girl?"

"What's the big deal?"

"She could be a serial killer, Kurt." Rachel answers before I can.

"She could be a vampire novel writer." I go on.

"She could be a Nicki Minaj's fan." Rachel adds.

"What side you are, Berry?" Kurt asks her in a serious voice. "We're in a public place. You'll be fine. She's a nice girl and will be here any minute, so ask her all you want." He finishes, adjusting his bag on his shoulder and turning away.

"What if she's an American Idol watcher? What if I come back home talking like Simon Cowell?" I ask and Kurt stops for a moment to look at me.

"Mr. Cowell is out of American Idol for years now. You. Will. Be. Fine. Rachel, let's go!"

"Look, I definitely do not want to jeopardize your dates. Especially because I really would like you to stop jeopardizing mine, but-" Rachel sighs and lows her voice so Kurt won't hear. "In case of an emergency, call me and I'll play your safe card. And by an emergency, I don't mean a third wheel friend."

"Rachel, come on!" Kurt shouts from a few steps ahead, where he waits for Berry to follow him.

"Get going, Berry. I know how to handle all kinds of creeps. Been practicing since high school, you know."

"You sweet, sweet girl." Rachel smiles ironically, handing me the heart shaped helium balloon. "Please get laid soon." She completes before turning her back and hurrying to Kurt.

Then I'm standing alone in the middle of Times Square. And even thought I'm surrounded by tourists and the Valentine's decoration makes me feel like a unicorn puked all over, I happen to like Times Square and all its lights and stores.

I take my time in front of a McDonald's, watching the afternoon sun going down, and don't get to wait very long before I hear a call.

"Hey girl."

"_Holla_." I say to the woman who just approached me.

She is a discreet blonde, her yellow hair curled up in one long braid. She's using army boots and a brown leather jacket. She's not smiling or seeming anxious. Her hands are placed in her jeans pockets as she stares at me long.

"Are you my date?" I ask when she doesn't say anything else.

"Am I?"

"What's your name?"

"What you want it to be?" She asks me back, a shadow of a smile in her blue eyes.

"Are you _Pretty Woman_-ing me?"

"You wouldn't afford it if I was." The blonde says, seeming to have fun, and offers me a hand. "I'm Sarah. Sarah Jackson."

"Santana-"

"Lopez. I know." Sarah interrupts me as we shake hands and I raise an eyebrow, watching her closely. "Is that for me?" She asks, indicating the balloon.

"Hell, no." I say, releasing it and the helium makes it float away. "So, are we going somewhere?"

"We're already somewhere. Are you hungry?" She questions and then something rings loudly.

_Not again!, _I think when she takes it off her jacket – a pager. But Sarah turns it off without even looking at the screen and puts it away again.

"What?" She asks when her look goes back to my face. I guess I seem surprised – it's not every day someone turns off a pager to be with you!

"Who carries a pager?" I say, instead of the truth.

"Surgeons." Sarah answers with a quick smile. "Are you hungry or what?"

"In the matter fact, I am."

"Great, cause I have a gastronomic tour in mind." She says and starts walking. I follow her.

"You're not a surgeon." I say and Sarah gives me a glance. "Your hands. Surgeons have delicate hands, and yours are not. I can see some bumps and scratches from here."

"So…?"

"You're not a surgeon."

"I didn't say I was. I just said surgeons carry pagers."

"You clever girl." I mumble and Sarah smiles fully. She has white teeth that form some kind of sexy yet serious grin. I like it.

"You're very observant." She says as we stop in front of a hotdog stand. "We'll have two chilidogs, please."

"That's our gastronomic tour? Through hotdogs cars?"

"The best ones in town."

"And you just ordered for me? What if I don't like chili?"

"You like chili. And I'm not saying that because you're Mexican."

"How do you know?"

"_Everybody _likes this chili." Sarah responds, accepting the hotdogs and paying the guy.

"How do you know I'm _Mexican_?"

"Oh." She gasps for a moment and hands me my chilidog. "I don't. I guessed."

"Right." I stray the foil and bite the chilidog. "Damn, this tastes good."

"I told you so. Come on." Sarah keeps walking among the tourists and I stay besides her. We just eat for a few moments.

"How do you know Kurt?"

"We're kinda friends." She says and I blink in disbelief.

"He didn't remember your name today."

"We're not _best friends_." Sarah refutes, and I just wrinkle my forehead. "We buy coffees in the same coffee shop, at the same time, for some months now. We bump in each other almost everyday. That's it."

"And somehow you ended up in a date with me, even though Kurt doesn't know you enough to remember your name."

"I'm truly more concerned about _you_ remembering my name, from now on." Sarah states stopping at the sidewalk to throw the rest of her hotdog at a dump. I do the same, except that I ate the whole thing and just throw the paper away.

"That was a good answer." I admit and she nods a bit.

"Is there room for more food?"

"Always." I say and we go down the Seventh Avenue till the next hotdog stand.

"Two vegans, with that bittersweet sauce."

"You gonna pick my food up all night?"

"What if I am?" Sarah asks me with a crooked smile. "Do I notice a trusting issue there?"

"What if I don't like hotdog at all?"

"That again? You eat hotdog everyday. I'd say it's your favorite food." Sarah sighs, ordering two cokes and stopping me in the middle of an attempt to pay. "My treat."

"Sarah?"

"What?"

"How the hell do you know I eat hotdog everyday?" I ask, biting my _treat. _It tastes so fucking good that I can't believe it's really vegan. My eyes almost pop out of my head. Hotdog in goddamn right my favorite food.

"God, Santana. I just said anything to you stop complaining." She rolls her eyes at me like I'm making an idiot question, and chuckles. I'll let it pass for now.

"I have to bring Rachel here sometime."

"Who?" Sarah asks immediately.

"Rachel. A friend of mine." I say, chewing again.

"Rachel…?"

"Berry. Rachel Berry." I sip my coke. "She's a vegan pain in the ass. But she'll love it."

"Rachel Berry." Sarah mumbles to herself, like she's trying to memorize the name.

"Hey, Sarah."

"Hi?"

"Who carries a pager?"

"Hookers." She says and I laugh.

"Wearing this?"

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Nothing. That's my point."

"Once again: I did not say I _am_ a hooker."

"What _do_ you are?"

"Today, just your date."

"Damn, you're really good at evasive answers."

"You have no idea." She laughs as we sit at the plastic benches around the hotdog stand. "So, tell me."

"What?"

"Your story."

"What you mean?"

"Tell me your story."

"Oh, I don't really like talking about myself." I say and Sarah just raises her eyebrow, sips her coke and stares at me. "Ok, well. I guess it all started when my _abuela_ met my _abuelo_."

"Ancient story, all right." Sarah nods, still watching me mindfully. "Go on."

_So a half hour later…_

"Then I was born a week after that…"

_One hour later…_

"In the fourth grade this boy starts flirting with my best friend and suddenly she won't spend the school break with me anymore. I was so… So…"

"Sad?"

"Pissed! Who that little bitch thought she was? Two days after that I had the boy knelt in front of me with a ring."

_One and a half hour later…_

"That's how I made to High School. The best years of my life..."

"Until now."

"Yes, until now."

"I was a cheerleader too, you know." Sarah says, grinning at me.

"I never said I was one."

"Come on. You have 'cheerleader' all over you."

_Two hours later…_

"And she was great, actually. Not they'd have done it without me, but… Yeah, Rachel was great that night and we won Nationals."

"The same Rachel you used to slushie all the time?"

"Yeah, but we got to be friends after that."

"The same vegan pain in the ass Rachel?"

"Sort of friends."

_Two and a half hours later…_

"So I moved in with Kurt and Rachel, and they were mostly nice, but I had to help pay rent, so I got some crap jobs…"

"Yeah, the Coyote Ugly just seems nice at that movie."

"You knew I was a coyote?" I ask, suspicious.

"What- I- What? Were you?" She blushes and shakes her head. "Like for real? No, of course I didn't know! I just… It was a joke!"

"Ahm…"

_Three hours later…_

"I got this really good internship in a big Publicity Company, and when I got home there was a surprise party waiting for me. What, I have to say, was nice because they didn't _know _I was in. But Rachel said they knew for sure, because no one would take what Ms. _Satan_ Lopez wants for herself." I smile at that and shake my head. "We got really wasted and made some bets and duels with Rent songs… And now I'm paying the price."

"Hm, so I am the price?" Sarah asks me softly. My ass is sore for spending so many hours in that plastic bench, but she seems as interested in what I say as she was at the beginning.

"Not exactly. It's a big price that I'll pay in plots through the year. A date a month, that's the deal."

"What! That's not really fair. What if… I don't know, what if you find someone before that?"

"Guess I could just date the same person every month, if I want to."

"Better. I was getting unmotivated here." She says and I smile.

"Now tell me something about you."

"What do you wanna know?"

"Well, we could start with… _Who the hell carries a pager_?"

"Drug dealers." Sarah strikes back and gets up.

"You wouldn't have turned it off." I say and accept the hand she offers me to pull me out of the bench.

"You're underestimating the importance of our date." We walk our way back to Times Square and Sarah makes a quick stop to get me a pretzel, without bothering asking if I want one. But of course it just tastes amazing when I bite it.

"Come on, tell me something about you. A hobby. What do you like to do?"

"Well, I like to burn stuff."

"Burn like… making them… look hot?"

"Burn like lighting a fire and throwing stuff at it."

"In what world is that a hobby?"

"Oh, come on, don't you like to play with fire?" She asks me in a rough voice.

"Well… why don't you tell me a little more about it?" Sarah smiles and takes a look at her watch.

"I'll do better. I'll show you. Let's go."

She takes the lead, walking fast and making our way through the amused tourists that try to take picture of every light on Times Square. Moments later we're close to this group of guys that seem to be putting together some kind of stage to a street show.

"Hey, Jack."

"Sarah!" This strong guy with tattoos covering his big arms and using lots of eye liner turns to her and smiles brightly. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, I know. Look, this is Santana. Santana, this is an old buddy, Jack."

"How you doing?" Jack nods at me while the two other guys take a few things out of bags.

"Pretty good." I say, still chewing my covered in sugar and chocolate chips pretzel.

"So, I'm kind of trying to make an impression here…" Sarah says, shameless, smiling at me in a bit dirty way. "Would you help me?"

"Course!" Jack smiles fully and Sarah kisses him in the cheek before joining the other guys.

"Sorry, lady, but you'll have to take a few steps back."

"What- Why?" I ask, instantly fixing my feet where I stand. I'm actually trying to see what Sarah is setting up.

"Safety." Jack says, using his brawny arms to make me back off.

I roll my eyes, but it doesn't take long before I understand what he's talking about. Suddenly there are more lights competing in those sidewalks. Warm and bright lights. Fire. Sarah took her jacket off and I can see her slim arms and the curve of her breasts that look bigger than I thought. But my attention is drawn to her hands – where two sticks have the edge on fire. The flames make Sarah's blue eyes glow. She looks directly at me before she runs the fire edge through her arm naked skin.

"You crazy?" I shout, but she only chuckles and does it again. Doesn't seem to hurt her.

Jack calls Sarah's attention. He has two sticks at his hand too. And at a signal, they start trading them in the air. Hurling the sticks to each other's hands, at the same time, in a perfect choreography. All I can see is the fire drawing glowing lines in the air, as Sarah's hands work faster and faster.

Then, at a move, Jack starts to take care of the four sticks alone. Juggling them with such ability! When Sarah comes back to the "center of the stage", she's wearing gloves and holding three small balls on fire. She juggles then; she spins herself while juggling then. She and Jack start trading again and I swear I can hear Alicia Key's voice screaming "this girl is on fire" while I watch. It's amusing and Sarah knows it. She's confident, sexy and absolutely scary.

When the show's over, twenty minutes later, I notice the amused crowd around me. Sarah puts her jacket on again and walks towards me.

"What did you think?"

"What was that supposed to tell me about you? That you're a crazy pyromaniac?" I ask, my hands in my waist as I stare at her seriously.

"Yes, what else?" Sarah laughs, not upset at all with my understate of her show.

"I liked it."

"I know." She smiles that sexy grin again and I get even more serious.

"Now will you tell me the truth?"

"About what?"

"About everything. You've been evasive or lying about pretty much everything since this date started." I let out but Sarah just raises her eyebrows calmly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Ms. I-carry-a-pager. You obviously know a lot more about me than you're willing to admit. And I know you didn't get that for Kurt, because you're not friends, you don't talk a lot, cause he never mentions you and he doesn't really know your name." I tap my feet at her, trying to shake a bit all of that confidence.

"So…"

"I know you're a cop. The pager and those…" I point at her boots. "gave you up. But there's a lot more you're not telling me. Not all good food in New York can make my psych third Mexican eye go blind."

"You're right, I am a cop. But that does not configure a lie, since I never told you I was anything else…"

"Sarah, I am this close to go all Lima Heights on you."

"Uh, will I like that?"

"No, you won't!"

"All right, fine!" She sighs and rubs her blue eyes, before looking at me again. "You really wanna know?"

"Yes."

"I didn't lie all the time. I met your friend Kurt at Magg's Coffee, where we both buy breakfast every morning. But whatever, I never paid much attention at him, till one day… You came along. I hear you ordering a marshmallow latte, decaff, with extra sugar. The same I order everyday. I get interested. So I hope you'll show up again next day, but you don't. Neither the day after. So one morning I follow your friend when he leaves Magg's and he comes all the way till a Broadway theater, where I find out he's part of a musical. But you're not. You're still a mystery. So I buy a ticket to that musical, I send a really big bouquet to Kurt's dressing-room and I use my badge to get backstage at the end of the play, where I kiss Kurt's ass a lot. _A lot_. He tells me about his career, his life and his roommates, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez – was no hard to figure what one was the Latin girl I was into. So I google you when I get home, and do a little more research in my job. I get more interested. Next morning, what a surprise!, I run towards Kurt at Magg's where I do some more ass kissing, and offer him a ride to Broadway. I drive slowly so I manage to tell him I'm gay, I'm single, I'm looking for someone. Cause, yes, I knew you were gay from the moment I saw you, and if there's a truth in life, it is: if someone has two gay single friends, this someone will try to match them up. I bet. And I won. So here we are."

"_Dios_, Sarah!"

"I know…"

"That's the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Really?" Her eyes pop out a little, darker than ever.

"No! You're a crazy psycho stalker! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking of you." She answers at ease. Nothing can shake this girl's structures.

"You're absolutely out of line. You dug me up with your policeman powers?"

"Yes… Yes, I did."

"Unbelievable!" And I mean it, so I don't know why I feel like laughing so much.

"You're laughing."

"What, should I cry?" I ask and Sarah just shakes her beautiful serious blonde head and blinks slowly.

"Does that mean I don't get to see you again?"

"No. That means I pretty much would like you to guarantee I'll be seeing you too everytime you see me." I answer and Sarah's smile is wild.

"You got yourself a deal."

Sarah still has the time to take me to the most awesome cupcake shop before she has to turn her pager on again and run to attend some call at the station where she works.

"So, was she nice or what?" Kurt asks me by the phone when I'm looking for a cab.

"She's a pyromaniac stalker, Kurt!"

"What? Did the date suck again?"

"The date was great. We're going out again next week."


	3. Candance, the desperate housewife

Well, I HAVE to start this thanking PraiseFortheFallen and xMilaax who were awesome enough to give me two new great characters. I'm thinking very kindly about Lena and Alex, girls. That meant a lot, thank you! That said, I'll reafirm: you can all make up some girl and tell me a bit about her, so maybe she'll become a date. ;)

And if you're reading this fic and wondering, let me tell you: yes, guys, I swear that's a Pezberry lovesong ;)) And for the next chapters you all can expect: more pezberry interaction, sex!, Tony Award, crazy girls, Rachel lesbo curiosity, first Pezberry kiss, Santana madness and much more. It's Pezberry all along, yes, just look carefully to the details ;)

Hope you guys enjoy Candance today.

* * *

**3 – Candance, the desperate housewife**

I walk through the doors, give a quick look at the small saloon and hurry up to this table where a redhead girl is sitting. I'm barely in the chair when I hear the creak of the door being opened again.

"Did a blonde woman wearing army boots just got in?" I ask in a low voice to the girl sitting across the table.

"No. It's a brunet mother with her child." She answers and a second later the door announces another entrance.

"What about now?"

"The father came in."

"Oh, good. I guess we're safe then." I say, taking off my big sunglasses and pulling back the hood covering my hair.

"Do I get an explanation?" The girl questions, her forehead wrinkled.

"The less you know, the better for you."

"Ahm… Ok, I guess I'll just trust you about that. I'm Candance, by the way. Candance Holland. May I suppose you're Santana? When you're not undercover, at least."

"Yes, yes. You may suppose that, just not much loud, ok?" I say, getting a mirror from my bag and using it to check the corners of the shop. If there's something the last weeks taught me was that Sarah had eyes and ears _everywhere_.

"All right." Candance whispers at me. "We'll keep a low profile so your crazy ex-girlfriend won't hunt us to death."

"She's not my ex-girlfriend."

"I thought that was what _she_ believed in."

"We went in three dates! That's supposed to mean I get sex, not that I get stalked by police everytime I leave home or get all my favorite shoes burned up when I say it's over." I clutch a napkin in an attempt to stop myself from gritting my teeth.

"That's ok, Kurt has told me everything about that. I'm sorry for your shoes."

"Kurt, that son of a _pornô chanchada_ actress." I curse between my teeth. "Can't believe he made me come to another set up date." I look at the girl in front of me and raise an eyebrow. "And I don't know how he got you to come if he really told you all about Sarah."

"Well, you can consider our date as Kurt trying to make it up to you. And, come on, I'm a natural ginger and a ballerina. I'm not threatened by your ex."

"Not my ex!" I shout and Candance just shrugs with a smile.

She doesn't seem threatened, all right. Actually, she seems pretty comfortable and diverted. I pay real attention at her for a moment and absorb her beautiful red, long and tip curly hair. They are pulled away from her face for a polka dot tiara. She has freckles all over her pale skin, but they are just right, matching with her bright caramel eyes. She's beautiful, all small and thin, with pinky full lips. Maybe Kurt's really trying to make it up to me.

"What place is this, anyway?" I ask so we can truly start up. The place we're in is small and every wall has a shiny color. The shelves are full of tall, curved glasses, with dozens of small, colored, brilliant stuff I don't really indentify.

"It's a candy shop, as I told you by text."

"Yeah, I got your text, but when I read it, it sounded a little dirtier." I say and Candance laughs.

"I'm sorry, that's not a 50 Cent's song, but I think you'll like it anyway. Just turn your card over." She says, pointing at a round card next to me. I look at the red face of it and read the words: _Diabetic already! _When I flip it, the other surface is green and says: _Not diabetic yet, keep sugar coming!_

"What…?"

"It's a candy rotation."

"Oh, man!"

"I know, right?" Candance looks very pleased with herself.

"You should've been my first date."

"What really matters is to be the last one." And with that the rotation begins.

First a young waiter brings us an amazing lemon cake. Then an apple pie. Followed by tones of marshmallows. Candance eats it all much faster than I do and then starts stealing little pieces from my plate, like a child private from dessert. I try to protect my plate and her plastic fork scratches my hands all over in this candy war of ours.

"Stop it!" I complain when Candance steals the last piece of my strawberry jelly. I pout and she smiles sassy. "Should you be eating this much sugar? Aren't you a ballerina? Don't you have weight to maintain?"

"Are you calling me fat?" She asks, looking offended.

"I'm calling you starved."

"I'm still growing, you know."

"Yes, to the sides!" I say and she throws a napkin at me.

"Shut up! I feel pretty good about my weight, ok? I don't take the ballerina thing as seriously as I used to."

"What that means?"

"I don't perform anymore. I just attend the dance academy for practice. That's how I met Kurt, actually. We've done some classes together."

"Yeah, I know. He says you're great."

"I am." She says it with no hesitation, what makes me smile because her confidence sounds so natural.

"Then why don't you perform anymore?"

"Well, I turned eighteen and thought I should start dedicating my life to other stuff as well."

"Wait, what?!"

"Yes, you know. I always wanted to have cooking lessons. And learn some domestic economy. The ballet used to take most of my time, so…"

"No, no, no." I shake my head, interrupting her. "The other thing. Did you just say you're eighteen?"

"Almost nineteen now, actually."

"Shit!" I get up in a hurry. "I gotta go."

"What- Where?"

"Slap Kurt in the face!"

"Santana, chill out."

"Come on, I'll leave you home first. Do your parents know that you're out?"

"Oh, that's very mature of you."

"You're eighteen!"

"So what?"

"This date is barely legal! You're too young!"

"I'm not! Sit down!" She shouts and a waiter whistles from a few steps away and turns around, giving up the idea to offer us whatever he's carrying. "See what you've done! We missed the chocolate brownie!"

"I'm sorry." I mumble, sitting back and looking down to my plate.

"God, we're in a public place. Behave!"

"Sorry…"

"Where are your manners?"

"I just…" I start to say but Candance's laugh stops me. "What?"

"Who's the kid now, huh?"

"Oh, you little…"

"Ice cream?" A male voice intrudes our talk and Candace smiles.

"Yes, please!"

"What flavor is this?" I ask suspicious.

"Cheese with chocolate chips."

"Ew. No!" I wave goodbye to the waiter as Candance's already having her ice cream happily.

"What? You should try it. It's great."

"It sounds disgusting."

"I bet you once said that about French kissing. Just give it a chance." She rolls her eyes, offering me a spoon full of it.

I try it unwillingly, but it doesn't taste as bad as I expect. Though it's not as good as Candance makes it looks.

"I prefer French kissing." I announce and Candance grins at me.

"To be honest, me too." And there's something about the little huskiness in her voice and in the blush of her cheeks that makes me put every thought aside and lean to her.

Her eyes seem big and bright as I get closer, her lips part softly and I want to aspirate her breath that second before the kiss. But the kiss never happens cause Candance turns her head away just a little, but enough to my lips touch only her soft skin. I follow her eyes and see the bunch of children running around the shop. _Damn! _Such a perfect moment, but such a wrong place.

"You don't date a lot, do you?" I ask, leaning back to my chair.

"No, I don't. Is it that obvious?"

"Well, that's not an ideal dating place, is it?"

"You mean that's not an ideal making out place." Candance looks at me with her confident air.

"Yes, that's pretty much what I mean." She rolls her eyes and keeps having her ice cream, and then an awful thought goes through my mind. "You have made out before, right?"

"Is that a serious question?"

"You bet. Cause if you haven't been with girls before, we better just call this date off right now."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not willing to be a lesbian test-drive."

"You're not. I'm sure I'm a lesbian, ok? I know I like girls, I'm happy about it."

"That means you've had really bad make outs with boys?"

"No!"

"Then how do you know?"

"I just _do. _How do _you_ know?"

"I screwed a lot of guys. Then I screwed my best friends a lot of times. That's how I know." I say, shrugging. Candance rolls her eyes again like I'm a child.

"That's not what I do."

"Witch part? Screwing boys or screwing girls?"

"Both." She responds serious, her eyes in mine. "I don't screw around. I feel attracted to girls, but I don't have to sleep with one to know it."

"God, you're a virgin, aren't you?" I burry my head in my hands. I'll kill Kurt. I'll change all of his moisturizing creams for tooth paste and laugh my lungs off when he wakes up all red and smelling like a mint candy.

"Yes, I am."

"Why, God, why?!"

"Don't be such a drama queen." Candance accepts the nuts cake that's offered to us. "I'm not a child. I just believe in sex after marriage."

I choke with the piece of cake I was trying to eat.

"_What?_"

"That's right. I wanna get married before going to bed with anyone."

"Please, tell me you're not religious. Because that's a girl-to-girl date, you know. It wouldn't make any sense. And if you believe in that gossipy-old-lady kinda God, that spends time watching over the fences and taking notes of who sleeps with who, I really don't see how we could…"

"I'm not religious. That has nothing to do with God. That's about me." Candance interrupts me and sighs. I have to admit that, though she looks uncomfortable, she does not seem ashamed. And she certainly does not seem a child. "I just can't see sex just as a natural instinct. To me, it's a demonstration of love. Actually, the most intimate demonstration of love anyone could make. And I can't imagine myself doing it with someone that's not the person I want to spend all my life with and that wants to spend all her life with me. And as I believe marriage is the true expression of this desire… I don't think I'm gonna be having sex before marrying."

"Wow. No pressure at all for a first date."

"There's really no pressure, Santana. That's actually the easiest date you'll ever be into." Candance says calmly. "With me, you wouldn't have to wonder if I'd run away scared if you feel like calling tomorrow morning. You wouldn't have to worry about if three dates mean sex or not. We'd never talk about where is this thing between us going. You'd know. Cause I'm being honest and direct. No pressure."

"Well… I never thought _that_ way." I admit looking at her a little amused.

"Almost no one does. Someday I'll find out why a girl that actually knows what she wants and is not afraid to say it scares everyone so much."

Something about those sentences rings a bell in my brain. Like I've heard it before, but not quite _listened_ to it.

_"Cause I'm good at what I do! I'm not a scared, insecure, eighteen-years-old anymore. I won't tell a guy all he wants to hear just to keep him."_

_"Then stop crying cause they keep leaving you."_

_"I can't cause it doesn't stop being sad, Santana."_

_"God, Rachel! You spend twelve hours a day in the theater. You talk more about the Tony Award then you'll ever talk about any guy. You won't scream in an orgasm to preserve your voice. You made a choice. We can't have it all!"_

_"Why not?"_

"Santana?" Candance shakes her hand in front of my face and I blink. "Are you there?"

"Yes… It's just… What you said… It made a lot of sense."

"Good to know."

"Wait." I wrinkle my forehead, a bit startled. "You said you stopped performing because you wanted to have cooking lessons and… domestic economy? Are you really thinking about getting married soon?"

"Uhm, it's not quite like that. I'm not a wife's hunter or anything. I just want to get prepared. But yes, I'd love to start a family soon."

"Candance, that's crazy! You're just eighteen. You should be making a career. You should be dancing all around the world. You'll have time to make a family!"

"Drop it, Santana. That's foolish." She runs her hands through her hair, deep breathing. "I like dancing and I'm good at it. But being a ballerina was never my dream. I always wanted to have a house of my own, and someone to dedicate myself to. And kids, I want to have beautiful children and watch them growing up…"

"_That_ is foolish."

"Why?" She questions, her voice sharp. But she doesn't wait for an answer. "Who is anyone to judge other people's dreams? Who gets to decide what is a worth dream and what is not? What is a big dream and what is a small dream. Is that you? You decide? Cause, from where I stand, there's nothing small about dreaming with happily ever after. Nothing small at all."

"Whoa, you really got this speech read to come, didn't you?"

"I like to be prepared."

"I think you're crazy."

"Am I? Really?" Candance looks at me and smiles in a curious way. She gets up and drags her chair to my side, then sits again much closer to me.

"What're you doing?"

"An experiment. Close your eyes. Come on!" I close one eye and Candance cover the other with her hand. "Just try to imagine this: you're older. You're really successful. But, of course, you work a lot. Everyday. You get home tired, but you feel better when you park your car and smell the grass of our garden."

"_Our_ garden?" I ask, opening my eyes again. Candance cover the other one, taking me back to darkness.

"Just go along with it."

"Ok, ok."

"I'm waiting for you when you open the door. I help you to undress. I kiss your tired feet and I wash your long, beautiful hair while you shower. You wear you robe and we go have dinner cause, you know, I cook. I cook very well. And I tell you how I missed you all day long… and that I can barely wait to you to take me to bed…"

"Big guns you're using, girl." I say and hear as Candance chuckles.

"And I may not have much experience, but I'm curious and… I'm all yours. You like when I say that in your ears. All yours, forever." Candance's voice is incredibly seductive. "And when the time comes, we'll have a baby. A beautiful girl with your caramel skin…"

"Or your freckled cute face." I say, before I can stop myself. I can listen to Candance's smile through her voice.

"She'll be so bright and smart. Her name will be…"

"Sue." I complete and pull her hands from my eyes. "That's the name of the most incredible woman I knew."

"It's a great name."

"She'll be a ballerina, as you."

"And we'll have to attend to all her presentations."

"Oh, no!"

"Stop it. You'll be such a proud mother. Cheering harder than anyone in her solos."

"Maybe we should have a boy too…"

"I'd love that! He'd be sassy as you are." Candance's smile is enormous, so satisfied and dazzling that almost makes me go blind. I shake my head for a moment and reality strikes back.

"Oh my God! What are we talking about?"

"Possibilities."

"You putted some _brujería _on me. I don't want all that crap!"

"Maybe you don't. But maybe you do." Candance shrugs, still seeming very pleased with herself. "It's not a bad future to imagine. That's all I wanted you to understand. It's a desirable thing. You don't have to look so freaked out. I'm not asking to marry you."

"Better not."

"I'm not crazy, Santana. I'd pretty much like to be in love with my wife. And as charming as you are, I'm not falling for you right the way. So don't freak. If I ever want a future with you, it'd be mutual."

"You're very confident, you know."

"Yes. And I dare to think you like it."

"I do. And I like you." I admit, touching her ginger hair kindly. "What surprises me a lot, cause that was a terrible date place, although the candies were great. And you _are _very young. And you dress like you were born in the fifties."

"I'm charismatic."

"You are. But…"

"Oh, damn. There's a 'but'."

"Yep, there is. I think your honesty and the fact that you're so objective are amazing. Really. Of course it wouldn't work so well if you weren't that pretty. Women would run away much earlier."

"I don't know if I thank you or if I hit you."

"Don't do any. I just mean that… You're great, but I don't think I can give you all you want."

"Why do you think that? I want so many things; you don't know half of them. There are things I want for tomorrow and things I want for the next decade."

"In both cases, I don't think they are the same things I want."

"What do you want?"

"Well… Get on the top of my career, not having big responsibilities for awhile longer and, you know, have some great sex in the mean time."

"I see." Candance gives me a sweet smile and nods. "It actually seems to be about the things I can't give you. What's fair enough."

"See, just for the record: with this date, Kurt really made it up to me."

"As I said so."

Candance and I try a few more candies, then we pay the bill and say goodbye at the door of the candy shop. As I watch her walk away, I see a familiar car parked at the other side of the street. And maybe it's all that sugar in my blood that's making me extra sweet, but instead of screaming and busting the window of her car – as I SHOULD – I just cross the street and ask Sarah to a ride home.


	4. Jennifer, the fundamentalist geek

Hey guys, I'm sorry about the wait. I won't promisse next chap will come faster, though. I will promisse, however, that when you guys review me I get more inspirate. hahaha Thanks to everyone following, and I hope you like our 4th girl.

P.S.: I used more than a few quotes from Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and geek stuff in general. I trust most of you to be as nerdy as I am. Though not as nerdy as Jen here is. :P

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**4 – Jennifer, the fundamentalist geek**

I've been stuck in traffic for the last two hours, so I'm not in a good humor as I park my car and walk down the street, following the address on my phone's screen. I'm not anxious about this date, I'm not nervous about it. I'm not even pissed off that I had to come to another date, after three failures. Honestly, all I can think about is: I need to get laid tonight.

That's as simple as it gets. I need to get laid. It's against human nature having more sex in high school than in college. That's not how God made us to be. That's not how He wants us to behave. It's against natural forces. I need to get laid tonight. I don't care if I'll have to change someone's sexuality or get married. By the end of the night, I'll have a girl in my bed.

I'm still trying to find the address when I bump into someone.

"You're Jennifer." I say when I look at the girl I just ran into.

"You're Santana."

"You're leaving?"

"You're late."

I raise my eyebrow and give a quick glance at my watch.

"12 minutes."

"I could be watching _Game of Thrones_."

"And I could be watching _The L Word_." I say thinking about the full seasons Blue-Ray box Rachel just gave me yesterday. She seems more curious about it than I am, but I guess I should own the box, since I'm the L Word of the house. "They have an interesting Jenny too, you know. But instead I'm here, so you're going to stay."

Jennifer looks at me seriously, and then shrugs her shoulders.

"I guess I can watch the reprise."

"Great."

"They are really screwing up anyway."

"Who?" I ask as we walk in this weird Irish pub. The waitresses are really dressed like leprechauns. I mean... _really._

"HBO." Jennifer says, rolling her eyes. "They totally screwed up this season. I don't understand why it is so hard to follow the books. I mean, George Martin is a complete genius. Why HBO had to turn the roles upside down?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

"_Game of Thrones_, silly."

I let the air out as we sit in benches at the bar. It's a really small place and I don't see any available table. The walls are covered with posters of bands I don't really know. _The Weird Sisters?_Wait, I've heard of it somewhere.

"I just _hate_when they compromise the original history to gain audience. Can someone please make those idiots screenwriters read the books? Am I right? Same thing goes with movies. Actually, it's even worse."

"Are we still talking about _Game of Thrones_?"

"Yes, but not only. There are many examples. Like what they did to Percy Jackson's movies. Ridiculous, right?"

I nod, but I don't fucking understand anything. Percy Jackson isn't like, for kids? And Jennifer is no kid at all. Looking at her, I would say she's nearly thirty. And that's actually pretty much all I would say. Maybe she's thin, but as she's wearing a t-shirt – and OMFG, it says "team Edward" – that is five sizes bigger than it should, I'm really not sure of the shape of her body.

I guess her hair could be all pretty and shiny, but right now it looks like she doesn't brush it for a month, and it's tied with a brown string. Jennifer's face could even seem nice, if she wasn't wearing those really big glasses with a thick black frame that doesn't really fit her. So, in the end, I don't know if she's beautiful or not, but I sure know she's not trying at all.

Whatever, I'm still fucking her tonight.

"We should get drinks." I say, interrupting her speech. I was not paying much attention, but I guess Jennifer was talking about a boycott to HBO and Warner Bros.

The guy in the bar smiles sympathetically at us.

"I'll have a butterbeer." Jennifer says, making him frown.

"I'm sorry, we don't have it."

"Then a firewhisky." She says back, turning her attention to me again. "I gotta pee."

She walks away before anyone can say anything.

"I knew The Weird Sister's poster was a bad idea." The guy mumbles.

"Get me two scotches." I say and he seems relieved.

I cannot say the same thing about Jennifer, when she comes back and tastes her drink.

"Ugh. That's not firewhisky."

"They didn't have it."

"They never do." She complains, sipping her regular whisky again. "But I believe that, if we keep asking, sometime they'll start selling."

"I don't think so. That's New York, not Hogsmeade."

I'm not trying to be funny, but Jennifer laughs.

"That's such a shame, right?"

"Not really."

She laughs again. I'm thinking over the idea of fucking her. She obviously has a problem identifying funny moments, and I just take foreplay very seriously.

"That just remembers me the last Comic Con. Were you there?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I had better things to do."

"Like what?"

"Like living."

"You never went to Comic Con, did you?"

I look at her, measuring my answer. Something tells me that the truth will just end our date. Suddenly, I realize I don't really care.

"No. I never went to Comic Con. And I never intend to."

"Good!" Jennifer nods emphatically. "There's not anything worst in this planet than people that only care for comics at Comic Con time. The worst kind of people there is."

"Really? What about rapists? Assassins? Pedophiles?"

"Well, at least this people are bad and we know it. Posers are just pretenders. You think they are fans, but they are just... _posers_."

And she actually can put more disgust in that word than I could put in _pedophiles._It's so ridiculous, so absolutely ridiculous that I laugh.

"That's not funny!" She says, seeming indignant. "I've had some bad experiences with this kind of people."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" Her dark eyes stare at me through the glasses. "I have a comic books store. So you can imagine."

"No, I can't."

"Well, let's say I lost some great and rare comics for people that were only pretending to be fans."

"Lost?"

"Yes. They have money and no ways to spend it, so they just buy anything expensive..."

"Then you _sold_ some comics to..."

"I would never sell them if I knew!"

"But you have a fucking store!"

"For fans!"

I've seen nerds. I've seen geeks. I mean, I dated Sam and he can speak the _Avatar_'s language, for God's sake. But this chick is crazy.

"Kurt must be punishing me for blowing off Candance." I mumble to myself.

"What?"

"Kurt must be punishing me with this date." I repeat in her face.

"Who the hell is Kurt?" Jennifer asks, raising her eyebrow.

A sparkle of hope lights in my chest. She doesn't know Kurt. Then she's not my date. Must've been a mistake. A misunderstanding. My date is still waiting for me somewhere. But... it would be too much of a coincidence. A random Jenny waiting for a random Santana?

"Kurt is the guy who set us up."

"I don't know any Kurt."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"My buddy Blaine said I'd like you."

"Oh. Blaine, right." I sigh, and the sparkle of hope turns to smoke. "I know him too."

"We met at the Hogwarts Convention. His cosplay of Sirius was so cute. And I generally hate cosplays."

"Really? What do you not hate?" I ask and Jennifer smiles.

"You must understand. How could I accept a cosplay of a Weasley that's not even a ginger?"

"It's a goddam cosplay for fans, in a goddam convention where people go to have fun. People dress fantasies so they don't have to worry about who they are, don't you think?"

"No, I don't think. Those conventions are serious stuff."

"They are not."

She's annoying me. She's annoying me so much I don't even wanna fuck her anymore. I just want to leave.

"We should end this date."

"Why?"

"Cause it sucks."

"I disagree. Let's have another drink." Jennifer calls the barman and asks for a refill.

I curse mentally, because I cannot end the date on my own. That's one of the rules. I never get to call out the date, or Kurt will set me up again in that month. And I do not, by any chance, want to go in more than the predicted 12 dates. I hate all this shit. Why is it so hard to get to know nice girls, for a change? I've been nice. I've been nice in every date and I'm still getting nothing.

I haven't had sex for months – MONTHS! Cause I suppose the makeout on Sarah's car after our second date doesn't count. I mean, she has skillful hands and maybe I had a quick orgasm or something, but that was just a goodnight kiss that got out of control. It was not meant to be sex. The third date was meant to be the sexual one, but then all my shoes were burned up instead.

"And she was dressed like Princess Lea, like I would love that so much, but Princess Lea has a golden bikini, everybody knows, and..."

"I don't care." I say, just to say something. I don't know what Jennifer is talking about now, cause I really – REALLY – don't care. But I guess she doesn't care either and keeps talking.

I look around, looking for a salvation. Maybe if there's another lesbian in the room, I could make a move. With a little bit of lucky, it'd piss Jennifer off enough to her to end the date. I even want to see Sarah hiding there somewhere, but she's not around. Bitch. She's been following me everywhere, but tonight she won't show up.

I have to do something by myself.

"I once wrote a Harry Potter's fanfiction, but I never read the books." I let out with a defiant look. It's a lie in every way. I read the books. Some of them. Sort of. And I never wrote a fanfiction, but I sure did read a lot of them. I mean, Hermione and Ginny team forever.

Yuk, her geekness is contaminating me.

"Well, it could be worst." Jennifer says, making me sigh. I was so sure she would consider me a poser and throw me out in the street! "If you never read the books, you're not truly a fan. Then, your mistake is forgivable."

"Mistake?"

"Yes. Fanfics are like heresy."

"In what world?"

"Ours! Think about it. The Bible has a lot of readers, and Jesus has a lot of fans, but nobody thinks it's just ok to see random people writing ridiculous histories where he fucks Peter."

"This is so out of line." I mutter between my teeth.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Jennifer rolls her eyes at me again, like I'm stupid. "How can anyone be a fan of something and, at the same time, believe that they can change everything? I mean, you've seen the stuff there's out there? There are Hermione/Snape fanfictions. Oh my God, that makes me sick."

"You make me sick. You know, that's what people call entertainment. If you like something very much, you want to be part of it. That's why people go to conventions, and dress cosplays, and writes fanfictions. I'm far from being a geek, but you are far from being a fan of anything. You're a fundamentalist."

"You're very exalted." Jennifer bits her lower lip for a moment and sips her new drink. "But I'll tell you why you're wrong..."

"Fuck."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. I was not trying to sound interesting. Why, God, why?

"Look, this's the worst date I had in my life. And I'm counting Finn Hudson's first time with a girl. I mean it. This date is shit, but I can't walk away or I'll have to go to another one next week."

"I see you're getting sentimental about our conversation. But you see, fanfics are like ghost writers. It's not about the original thing anymore. That's why..."

She won't stop. There's not any other lesbian in this place. Sarah's not around. It's too public for me to kill Jennifer and leave quietly. I have no other choice. I get my phone in my purse and start playing Candy Crush Saga.

Sad thing is that ten minutes later, I'm out of lives. I try Tetris for some time, but Jennifer is still talking, I'm in my fifth drink and getting a little drunk, the colorful parts are not going to the right places anymore. I look for fanfictions just to provoke Jennifer, but she's not paying attention in what I'm doing.

Salvation comes to me in the shape of a text message.

**"How's your date going?"**

**"Terrible. Save me, pls."**

**"You say that every time."**

**"I mean it, Rachel. She's a fundamentalist geek. ****SOS."**

**"Get out of there, then."**

**"Can't. Kurt'll set me up again."**

**"Tell you grandma died or something."**

**"U crazy, Berry? Shut up, words have power. Won't say that."**

**"OK, sorry. Make up an old uncle in the hospital."**

**"I won't kill relatives. And must be something that will make her never look for me again."**

**"Uh, say U have the claps."**

**"Ugh. No way. She might spread the word."**

**"I give up."**

**"Come help me! You said you would if I asked."**

**"How?"**

**"I don't care. Any way you want. Just hurry."**

**"Anyway I want?"**

**"Yes."**

**"OK. Send me the address."**

I do so, and hope Rachel grow wings and flies over here before I lose my mind.

"Can we talk about anything else?" I ask sighing heavily.

"Sure. _Star Wars_ is not for everyone." Jennifer agrees, sipping her drink. "But I'm sure you appreciate _Lord of the rings_."

"No, anything else. Different. Enough of books and movies and tv series and fandons!"

"Oh." She looks at me serious for a moment, then shakes her head. "You're not very instructed, are you?"

"Oh my God! Are you kidding me? You think I do not read?"

"You obviously don't have much reference."

"I just have a fucking life! I go out and talk to people. I try to be nice." That's not much of a truth. "Sometimes, perhaps. I sure tried to be nice with you. I thought about fucking you tonight, even though you would probably be all like 'haven't you read kamasutra? That's not how this position is described, you poser'. So, God helps me, I'm this close to slap you."

Jennifer laughs again, loudly.

"Oh Jesus, you may not be much of a brain, but you sure is funny." I clench my teeth in attempt to control myself. "And also kinda hot, so I'll give you another chance."

"I don't want another chance!"

"Shut up, I'll take it easy on you. Let's talk about... gymnastic?"

Breath, Santana, breath. Remember those yoga exercises Rachel teached you. All those anger control thoughts Kurt made you practice when you moved in. Breath. Imagine your Happy Place. Yes, I'm lying in a cotton candy bed and I know Shakira will appear at any moment, cause in my Happy Place, Shakira's always around.

So, in the next twenty minutes doesn't matter what Jennifer says, all I hear is the musical background of my Happy Place. _Estoy aquí, queriéndote..._Unfortunately, it's just this sentence over and over again cause I never remember what comes after. Funny thing is that Rachel has this song all figured out and her Spanish is not even that good. I guess she just has a damn ear for songs.

"Santana Lopez!" I shake my head, amused that I could evoke it so clearly just of thinking about it. "Is that really you?"

I blink and get back to reality. I did not evoke Rachel's voice. She's really here. Finally! But wait, did she just ask if it was really me?

"Ahm..."

"Oh my God!" She exclaims dramatically, looking at me with her big brown eyes. "You're in a date, aren't you?"

"Well..." I really don't know what she's doing.

"Who's that bitch?" Rachel asks, giving Jennifer such an angry glance that gets me amazed. I don't know what she's trying to pull off, but she's a great actress.

"I'm Jennifer." She says, when I do not answer. "Jennifer Hates."

"Jennifer _Hates_?" I question and she nods.

"What's wrong about it?"

"Wrong? Nothing. It's just _right._" I answer, laughing.

"Are you screwing this girl?" Rachel goes on. I cough.

"What! No... No way, I'm not."

"Don't lie to me, Santana."

"Who the hell are you?" Jennifer asks, seeming pissed off. Man, Rachel did in one minute what I've been trying to do all night long!

"I'm her wife!"

"What the f-" I begin, rising from the bench, but Rachel's eyes shut me up.

"What? Will you deny? Will you deny our love, our home, our past, our history?"

"Is she serious, Santana?" Jennifer asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, we do share a home..."

"And love!"

"_Rachel._"

"I can't believe you're cheating on me!" Her eyes are suddenly teary. "Don't you remember our vows?"

"Not really..."

"_When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives._That's why we should always be together!"

"Ahm..."

"Jesus Christ! You quoted Ned Stark in vain?" Jennifer's expression is perplexed.

"I guess... Maybe?"

"I thought you were just a naive fool." Jennifer turns to Rachel and shakes her head. "I didn't know about you."

"She changes her mind a lot." There are tears in Rachel's cheeks and Jennifer gives her a napkin. "I don't know why I always fall for that. She told me we would travel the world, searching for the Death Hollows together. We would conquer death and live our love forever, like... like... Bella and Edward!"

Jennifer's expression gets more and more shocked. When she stares at me again through her glasses, her gaze is so cold that I get chills.

"How could you go so low?" She asks me in a disgusted tone.

"Rachel, _baby_, I think you're overreacting."

"Am I? _Am I_?" She sobs a little, and I start to freak out a bit. "What do I have to do to make you understand? Do I have to sing about it?" Rachel breaths deeply. "I'll have to sing about it!"

"No!" I shout. "No singing."

"Please, don't sing about it." Jennifer mumbles and I guess she's a little freaked out too. "See, it's getting late and I better go. You sit here and talk." She says, nodding again.

Jennifer takes a few bucks from her pocket and lays them at the bar, before turning to Rachel.

"Tribute, may the odds be ever in your favor."

She still gives me a reprimand look before leaving the place.

I'm still dizzy when Rachel takes her place by my side. Her teary eyes are gone and there's a highly amusing smile curving her lips.

"What the hell was that?"

"That was me screwing up your date with no coming back. You're welcome."

"You're crazy, you know."

"Come on, you had fun!"

"How did you know... all that geek stuff?"

"There's this awesome thing I discovered called... ahm... Google?"

"But took you twenty minutes to get here."

"Santana, _baby_, you're talking to a Tony Award nominee, please." Rachel rolls her eyes. "I can get into a character in half this time."

"Hunf." It's my time to roll eyes, cause I won't let her see I'm kinda impressed. And I sure won't tell her how grateful I am. "Do you want a drink?"

"I guess you own me one."

"Maybe two." I shrug and Rachel laughs.

"Maybe."

"Can you do me another favor?"

"What is it?"

"Can you sing me _Queriéndote_, from Shakira? I'm crazy here trying to remember the words."

"You see, there's this awesome thing called Google..."

"Come on, Rach." I pout a little and she smiles.

"I knew you wanted me to sing about it."

And as she starts, really low, just for me to listen, I think that actually... I always want her to sing about anything.


	5. Margareth, the married cougar

Hi! As I said, I get really inspired by reviews, and you guys were awesome about the Jen chap! I knew there were some geeks among you all u.u So, I didn't take long to update this time, did I? Before getting started, though, I wanted to say I'm sorry about any grammar or spelling mistakes in this fic. I'm brazilian, my cute beta is brazilian, and we try, but sure we don't get it all. I don't mind if you guys point out the errors in reviews, so I get it right and learn for next time ;)

And for those of you who are waiting for more Pezberry, I tell: things definitely heat up from now on. Hope you enjoy!

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**5 – Margareth, the married cougar**

"'So good I could barely keep my pants on'? I'm quoting, Kurt. Really."

"So Rachel had a nice date. What's the problem?" He asks, stoping the car at the red traffic light.

"A nice date with a girl!"

"What about it, Santana?" Kurt looks at me, taping his fingers at the steering wheel.

"She just met this woman yesterday."

"You crazy? Lizzie has been Rachel's coreographer for six months now."

"Worst! Screwing someone from work is just unethical."

"Rachel's not screwing her."

"Not _yet_."

"I don't know why you're so upset about it." Kurt's eyebrows raise in curiosity.

"Well, maybe it's because I'm on my way to my fifth blind date this year and I haven't got close to lose my pants yet! Cause you're completely unable to find me a nice girl, but won't give up this stupid bet! Now even Rachel Berry, that suddenly decided to explore her sexuality playing for the other team, is having better dates than I am!"

"Right, that's really nice of you. If you're not getting lucky, your best friend sure shouldn't either. Is that it, Santana?"

"Yes! I mean, no! It's just... She'd never seemed to be interested in girls before. We've been living together for years now. And she'd never..."

"Had the hots for you?"

He laughs at his own question, but I don't think it's funny at all.

"It's just weird, ok? Rachel with a girl is just... Whatever. I just wanted _you_ to find _me_ a girl that made me want to lose my pants."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I did find you some great girls. You are the one finding problems in all of them."

"Should I recap my dates to you?"

"Please, don't. You've done that all week." He sighs deeply before looking at me again. "I'm trying to help, you know. You've been in a bad mood all year. Just try to have a little fun, for a change."

"Please, you let Puck set this date up. _Puckerman_! I'm probably spending the night with a pole dancer transvestite!"

"That's just the reason I'm coming along. If this girl is a bit... too exotical, I'll free you from this month's date."

"Swear?"

"Yes, I swear." I feel a bit better now.

Kurt keeps driving for a few minutes, following the GPS's instructions. When we get to our destination, though, my chin drops a little.

"Is that the place? Are you kidding me?"

"No... That's really it."

We're parked in front of a really beautiful restaurant. A vallet is opening the car's door for me, and Kurt hands him the keys. It's no doubt a high class place, with awesome fixtures lightening the way to the entrance. I wasn't expecting that.

Kurt and I walk in, sharing an amused silence. It can't be right. Puck did not set me up with someone in this place. I'll just check the reservation to prove that we came to the wrong restaurant.

"Hi. Is there a reservation in the name of Margareth Kennedy?" I ask the concierge and she smiles at me sweetly before nodding.

"Are you miss Santana Lopez?"

"Yes."

"Miss Kenedy's waiting for you. Shall I take you to her table?"

"No. No, no, no." I shake my head intently. "Don't do that. Just come over here for a sec and discretely point miss Kennedy out for me, ok?"

The receptionist narrows her eyes for a moment then shrugs a bit.

"Sure, miss."

Kurt follows us both to the threshold of the diner saloon, where the girl shifts her head in the direction of a table a few steps away. There's a blonde woman sitting there. I look at her for a moment, and my jaw drops again. She's not just beautiful, she's _marvolous. _And yes, I do know how idiot it sounds, but that's the only word I can think of to describe her.

"No way!" I mutter, steping back to the reception.

"Where are you going?"

"No way, no way, no way." I keep saying, as I push Kurt out of the restaurant.

"Santana! Are you crazy? You cannot blow off this date! Have you seen that woman?"

"Yes, I did!" I drag Kurt along as I make the vallet lead us to where the car's parked. "That's exactly why I can't get in there like this." I say pointing at myself. "Get in there."

Once we're in the car, I start undressing.

"Give me your shirt."

"What?"

"Give me your shirt, Kurt! Now!" Of course he's wearing a fashion and expesinve black shirt that's much cuter than whatever I am wearing. I mean, Puckerman arranged that date. I would never think I'd have to be better dressed than jeans and sneakers.

He's not happy about it, but as I botton up his shirt on myself, Kurt admits it looks nice. Of course it's a little tight in my boobs, but that's just a nice plus. I catch a pair of high heels I keep hidden on the car since Sarah burned all the rest and put on quickly. There's some make up in my purse and Kurt has much more in _his_ purse, so I use the rearview mirror to come up with something. Then I run my fingers through my hair, making fast a embedded lateral braid.

"What do you think?" I ask when it's all done.

"I think an extreme makeover just took place in this car."

"Good. Wish me lucky." I say, opening the door again.

"Look at yourself. You don't need any lucky, gorgeous." Kurt says smiling, and I can't help but smile too as I go back to the restaurant.

The receptionist takes two glances to reconize me, but does not say anything about it. This time I let her lead me to the table. Margareth gets up when I approach.

"I'm so sorry I am late." I say politely.

"Don't worry about that, dear." She smiles at me and gives me two pecks on the cheeks, before we sit in front of each other.

"I didn't know this place."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I guess it was a bit rude of me not asking before if you are fond of French cuisine."

"Are you kidding? This place is awesome." I really hope Kurt comes back home and describes all of this to Rachel in details. She'll see what's a good date, all right.

"It is, indeed. I chose because I come here a lot. They have a fantastic champagne. Must I order us a bottle?"

Champagne! That's great, she's already trying to get me drunk. Let's see who'll lose pants until the end of the night.

"Of course."

Margareth almost doesn't need to make a sign to get a waiter to come along. He's ridiculously fast in serving her.

"Everybody around here seems to know you."

Margareth smiles again.

"Yes, as I said, it is one of my favorite restaurants. I guess that's a place for customers. Look at that couple at your left..."

"What about them?"

"They are new here. Started coming a few weeks ago. They're newly married, as you can see."

"Actually, I _can't_ really see it..."

"That's easy to observe." Margareth lows her tone and her voice sounds sexier. "They sit side by side. Not front to front."

"What about it?" I raise my eyebrown, still no figuring it out.

"Have you ever tried to spend hours talking to someone sitting by your side? You exercise all your periferical vision and your neck still hurts by the end of the night."

"I guess you're right..."

"The advantage, of course, is that it makes much easier all the touching under the table."

She has a point, but I'm not sure it's accurate. All my dates usually sit in front of me, even the girls who obviously would like to get all handy. As I try to remeber, the only one who always seems to sit by my side is Rachel. And of course we're never doing anything under the table. It's natural. I mean, she's just warm and feels kind of cozy.

I shake my head a little as I realize I'm wondering. Margareth smiles bigger.

"Really? That's what you think they're doing?" I ask, going back to our conversation.

"Yes."

I look at the couple, paying more attention, and notice the blushness in the girl's cheeks. The dirt smile in the guy's face. What I don't see anywhere is their hands.

"Oh my God, they are so doing it!"

Margareth chuckles and I look at her again. Man, she's beautiful. Yes, she is undeniably at least twenty years older than me. But she's so astonishing that I don't have the thought _I wonder when she was younger – _no, I can tell her age is just right, improving her beauty with some seriousness and experience. Her blonde hair is short, curled, and her eyes are big, round and green.

I wish Rachel could see her. I mean, I wish all my friends could see her. She's one to show off, this Margareth.

"So, Santana..." Margareth looks at me mindfully. "How was your day?"

I am a bit surprised by the fact that she actually seems to be interested in the answer.

"Regular, I guess." Good, Santana. You're sounding very interesting. _Sucker_!

"Noah told me you're a publicist."

"Yes. Working on it, actually. I'm not graduated yet."

"Do you know what you wanna do after you graduate?"

"I want to work at show business marketing area."

"Lovely. You know, I have one or two friends that are in the industry... Maybe I could give them your phonenumber, if that's ok with you."

"You don't even know if I'm any good."

"I would bet on you blindly." She says, sipping the champagne the waiter poured so discreetly I almost didn't see.

_Oh, smooth!_

"Thank you." That's all I come up with. Margareth blinks one eye at me and smiles.

Ok, that's it. I gotta take a picture of her – and I'd tottaly post it on my Instagram if Sarah hadn't hacked it. Doesn't matter, I still make a slow motion move in my purse's direction and get my phone out of it. I let it lay on my lap for now.

"Oh, I wish this man on the piano would just take a break." Margareth sighs lowly, looking at the corner of the saloon where there's a black man on a grand piano.

"Why? He plays nicely."

"You haven't met Daniel. He's the usual piano player of the house. He's _terrific. _I wonder how long his vacations will last."

"I wonder why don't you just ask that waiter for Daniel to get back. I bet he wouldn't mind to go get him right now, anxious as he is to please you."

"Oh, aren't you mean?" Margareth says, but she's laughing.

"Well, I'm just saying he's not being very discrete."

"About what, dear?"

"About checking you out."

Margareth laughs a bit louder. She knows it's truth, though. But I can't blame the guy. Not really.

"Phillip's a sweet boy."

"Yeah, right. And what about this other guy over there?"

"Who?" Margareth turns a little to where I'm pointing at and I take the chance to take a quick picture of her.

"Never mind. I guess I'm just being silly. But you are truly beautiful, Margareth."

"And you are very kind." She says, grinning at me. "Also gorgeous, I must say."

_Also gorgeous, I must say. _This talking sounds so familiar. But of course Margareth was born and raised to behave like this. Rachel just try to sound like a diva all the time. Fuck, why am I thinking about her again?

"Are you ok? It seemed like I lost you for a moment."

"No, I'm here. I'm totally here." I sign and smile at her. "Actually, I was wondering how in this world you know Puckerman."

"Noah used to clean my pool at the Hamptons. I always thought him to be a very promising young man."

"When he was not trying to get in your bed, I imagine."

Ha! House at the Hamptons, suck it up Ber- _Ok, that's enough. _

"Yes, true." She smiles amused. "I helped him to start up his company and, of course, now he has a lot of cute boys that cleans all pools for him. But not mine. He still comes to clean my pool and drink margaritas every Wednesday of the summer."

"Isn't he charming?"

"You know he is."

"Sure I do. I dated him."

"Is that so?"

"High School. A long time ago."

"Like there's such a thing as 'a long time ago' at your age."

Margareth rolls her eyes just a bit and gives me a crooked smile.

"Are you hungry?"

There are menus in our hands before I can even answer. Margareth thanks Phillip and dismisses him politely. As Margareth runs her eyes through the card, I quietly check on the photo I took before.

Damn, all I got was pretty much her neck. Pearl earings, blonde hair, blue shirt. But, basically, neck. Whatever, I still send the photo to Rachel and Kurt, subcribing "_Díos, _she's hot!". Of course Kurt already saw her, but there's no ill in bragging a little. Hope Rachel won't notice that all you can really see is Margareth's neck.

**"Cute neck! :)"**

Fuck, she noticed.

**"You can imagine the rest." **

**"Well, I'll let it for you to imagine."**

**"No need. I'll see it all by the end of the night."**

**"Uh, dirty Santana!"**

**"Yeah, let's see who's quickier in loosing pants."**

Shit, that didn't come out as I imagined.

**"Hm... Ok?"**

"Did you choose, dear?" Margareth asks and I almost drop my phone, hidden as I am behind the menu.

I lay it down and smile sheepishly at Margareth.

"I'm sorry, my French's not very good." That's a lie, because I've been studying Frech for over a year now and I'm awesome at it, but I need an excuse and something tells me Margareth will just enjoy choosing for me.

She feels bossy. I wouldn't tell anyone. Ever. But I kinda like bossy women.

"Let me help you, then."

Her hand covers mine for a moment as she praises a meat. She has soft warm hands. Her green eyes sparkle. I'm not sure of what I ordered when Phillip walks away once more.

I few minutes go by as we chat. She's easy to talk to. Very intelligent, very instructed. Our food comes and we eat a little and talk a lot. Margareth seems to know a bit about anything and she listens to everything I say as it matters.

There's something that shines in her eyes when she smiles. She's not checking me out, but she actually is. How is it even possible? I don't know, but it's turning me on.

"So, Puck told you I am a publicist, but he didn't tell me anything about you." I breathe deeply and strait my eyes. "What are you, Margareth?"

"Well... I'm rich."

"And direct."

She beams and shakes her head.

"When my father died, he let me a insurance company that I had no idea how to rule. So I sold it for a big amount of money and I haven't managed to spend it all yet."

It's incredible how she doesn't sound cocky as she says all that. She just sounds honest, not full of crap, lies and excuses. _Díos_, I want to expose this woman in a outdoor in front of my apartment. So maybe I won't be that sad-kinda-funny girl with a thousand bad dates. I might be one to get people jealous, for once.

Margareth looks so perfect, sounds so right, feels so good. She's everything a date should be and...

FUCK.

"What is wrong about you?" I ask out of a sudden. Margareth seems surprised.

"I'm not sure I understand your question, dear."

"Are you a serial killer?"

"Not really, no."

"Racist?"

"God, no."

"Do you watch a lot of tv?"

"Hardly."

"Ok, quick answers now. An actress."

"Sophia Loren."

"A book."

"_The picture of Dorian Gray_."

"Nice. Complete the sentences: hands...»

"Touch."

"Talk."

"Dirty."

"Oral."

"Sex."

"God, you're perfect!"

Margareth laughs. She's not blushed, not embarassed, not even giving me a "you're weird" look. She just seems to be having fun.

"You are so cute."

"No, I mean it! You're rich, as you said. You're beautiful. You're interesting. I'm pretty sure boys and girls line up at your door. So I'm thinking why the hell someone like yourself would go on a blind date setted up by the pool boy. There must be something really wrong about you."

"Well, first... In a bit awkward way, I guess this was a compliment. So, thank you."

"You're welcome. Why are you here?"

"It sounded fun. And romantic. A silly fun romantic thing, really. When I thought about it I felt... young. Yes, young, like in that time when we're still desperately trying to find true love. Trying everything to get it. Even blind dates. Like in that Sinatra's song. Call me silly."

"I wouldn't. I'm glad you accepted the pool boy's suggestion."

"I am too."

And now she's looking at me in a way I can hardly explain. It's sexy, yet serious. It's seriously sexy. It makes my stomach contract.

"I'm not sure I know that Sinatra's song, though." I say, giving her the hook. She takes it.

"That's a shame. I have all of his vinyls at my apartment. Perhaps we should stop by so I can introduce you to this classic?"

"No, not perhaps. Certainly."

It takes two minutes for Margareth to pay the bill. I try, but she won't let me get close to my wallet, so I shrug and let her _endear me_, in her own words. The way in the cab to her apartment in the Fith Avenue is a blur. In the backseat, even a blind person could see the tension between us.

Her apartment is nobly decorared, of course. But I really pay more attention at Margareth as she puts a vinyl at the gramophone. Sinatra's voice echoes all around her living room. She turns to me and comes closer.

"Will you dance with me, Santana?"

"I may."

Her arms are around my waist a second later, and the touch is respectiful, but feels so intimate. The music is slow and sexy. Margareth is singing along very low. I shake my head so I don't listen to Rachel's voice mumbling music around as she cleans the house, once in a while. I gotta concentrate in Margareth. Concentrate in loosing my pants, cause Rachel sure is doin that and- _SHUT UP, BRAIN!_

_Strangers in the night exchanging glances  
Wondering in the night  
What were the chances we'd be sharing love  
Before the night was through._

_Something in your eyes was so inviting  
Something in your smile was so exciting,  
Something in my heart,  
Told me I must have you._

When Margareth's lips touch mine, I open my mouth to her kiss. She's seducing me and I don't wanna resist. It's a slow, deep kiss. I sigh as her tongue slides down my neck. Her fingers are going through my braid undoing it delicately.

"I love the tone of your skin. I wanted to taste it from the moment I saw you walk in." Margareth's voice in my ear is rough.

"In that case, please, help yourself." I say back as I start to unbutton my – Kurt's – shirt.

I don't pay attention to the way while Margareth leads me to her room. All the time, we're kissing and her hands are going through my body, mindfully. We lay down and I help her to undress, revealing a slim, tender body.

Margareth's hands are precise and soon I'm completely naked. She does not stare at my body hungrily or anything like this, but she sure appreciates it – that I can tell by the way she touches me. Firmly, yet calmly. Her touch's always going to the right places. She knows what she's doing and I know I like it.

We roll on the bed for some time, kissing and touching each other. It's great when I feel the moisture between her tighs. It's great to make someone feel like this again, finally! I could devour her in two minutes, but at the same time I couldn't. Cause that's not how this is going... Margareth's pace is different. Not exactly romantic, but not passionate either.

Damn, I'm overthinking again. I'll just let go... this feels so good. And now she's touching me so in the right place. God, I love this feeling... I start touching her too. Margareth sighs and her face becomes all reddish as she comes – so fast, hot and quietly.

I'm not sure it's the best idea when she goes down my body. I think it'll be easier to concentrate if I look at her pretty face as she touches me. But then she gets to her point and I really don't complain. I close my eyes, just feeling her mouth on me.

I moan lowly, pulling her hair a little, right before I come. Margareth comes up to hold me. She kisses me softly and I feel good. Pretty good.

I just can't believe I just had this amazing date. That ended up in sex! With this amazing woman. I finally – FINALLY – found someone worthy my time. My nights, my dates, my months...

"I gotta go, dear."

"What?" I raise an eyebrow as Margareth pulls away, delicately. "Go where? I thought this was your apartment."

"It is. It's not my home, though."

"I don't get it. Don't you live here?"

"No, dear. I don't live in the city for years now."

"Then, this place..." I look around and the truth hits me in the face. "_Oh._"

"That doesn't mean you can't stay. Please, make yourself comfortable. You're welcome to stay for the night." She says and her voice is sweet. But she's getting dressed.

"Why don't you stay with me?"

"Oh, I wish I could." Margareth smiles big. "But Robert gets all upset when I spend the whole night out."

"Who the hell...?" But I don't have to end this question, do I? "You're married."

That's what's wrong with her. Still better than a serial killer, I guess.

My tone attracts Margareth's eyes. She looks at me for a long time and then sits in the bed again.

"You didn't know?"

I shake my head.

"I thought Noah... Santana... I never meant to deceive you."

"I know. That's ok. Don't worry."

"Tonight was very special."

"I'm sure it was."

"You are very special. And I would love to see you again."

"Yes... Sure, Margareth."

"You have my number."

"I do."

"Call me."

I just shake my head again, not sure what to answer. Of course I won't stay here alone for the night – the idea is weird and lonely. So I start to get dressed again and Margareth and I go out together. She kisses me in the cheek before getting into a cab.

I'm far away from home, but now I feel like walking. My phone is vibrating in my pocket, but I don't get the call, don't read the message, I don't do anything. I just walk. It's really not like I just got hurt. And I'm not even mad at Puckerman. I know what he's going to say about it. _I thought you wanted to get laid, not married. _And he'll be right.

I don't know why I'm feeling this blue. At least, when I get home, I get to say my date was so freaking good that I couldn't keep my pants on at all. Yes, I won, Rachel. I lost my pants first, see? Yeah, I'll think about that in my way... But right now – right freaking NOW – I feel like the only thing I can win is in... losing.


	6. Hazel, the psychologist wannabe

That's pretty much the turning point. I really hope you all like it. :)

* * *

**6. Hazel, the psychologist wannabe**

It's goddamn hot. I sip my latte again and keep walking. I just drank almost a bucket of coffee and my eyes are still closing. I'm so lazy I'm not sure how I got here. I shouldn't have agreed to a morning date. I should have called this girl to reschedule. Or fucking called off the fucking date. I should have... But I didn't. Why didn't I?

I keep texting the girl as I walk through Central Park. I hope she finds me, 'cause I can barely keep myself from hitting the trees. I finally give up and sit on a bench below a big shadow. I'm sweating, my head feels dizzy and I don't wanna walk any longer. I text her again and a few minutes later, thanks God, a girl is coming towards me.

"You're Santana, right?"

"Yes. Are you Rachel?"

"Hazel, actually."

"Of course. Hazel. That's what I meant."

"I would ask if you want a cup of coffee, but..." She looks at the big cup in my hand and shrugs.

"If I drink any more coffee, I'll be shaking all week long."

"In that case, can we just sit here for a while?" She asks and I nod, before she sits by my side.

"It's freaking hot today."

"I know, right? I'm sorry I setted this date so early, but I'll have to work later today, so..."

"That's ok, no trouble, Rachel."

"It's Hazel."

"Hazel, sure. I'm sorry, I'm not much of a morning person."

"I guess I can see that." Hazel smiles sweetly at me and I try not to yawn back at her. "Have you slept at all last night?"

"Not really. I bet I don't look anything like the pictures Kurt showed you, huh?"

She laughs a little and shakes her head.

"He didn't. Showed me pictures of you, I mean. Blind date, right?"

"Really? I'm used to be the only blind one in these blind dates. And that's 'cause I lost a stupid bet. Why would someone go for something like that?"

"Call me adventurous."

"Yeah, right."

"It paid off."

"Even with those bags below my eyes?"

"Even so."

"Thank you. You're also very beautiful, Rachel."

"Hazel."

"Fuck!"

She is indeed very beautiful – brunnet, small lips, big sexy eyes. I should just focus on her. I gotta focus on her.

"Do you mind if I ask who's Rachel?"

"She's nobody, really."

"Sure?"

"Just my roommate."

"Oh, the other girl who lives with Kurt, I suppose."

"Yes."

"As far as I know, the three of you are close friends." She says softly. I turn my eyes away from her.

"I suppose."

Ok, now I'm feeling bad for saying Rachel's nobody. What's going on with me?

"I'm just guessing here... But it feels like something happened and maybe that's why you have her name in mind this morning..."

"I'm just sleepy." I almost bark back.

"Ok! Sorry." Hazel leans on the bench and looks at me very calmly. "It just feels like you need to talk about it..."

"There is nothing to talk about, Rachel! Hazel! _Hazel_, for God's sake! Fuck, dammit, shit!"

I don't know how this girl haven't slapped me yet. I sure deserve it. But she doesn't even seem pissed off. She's looking at me very patiently. Then she slides on the bench giving me more space and I lay down, covering my eyes from the sun.

My mind feels so full right now. So many incomplete thoughts. I don't know what to do with all of them. I can't think straight.

"I'm so tired." I mumble more to myself, but also as a weak excuse for my behavior.

"What happened last night?" Hazel questions and her voice is delicate. Not nosy, not overly interested, just willing to listen.

I don't know why I want so bad to tell her, but suddenly I do.

"The Tony Award."

"Sorry?"

"The Tony Award went on last night."

"And how does that affect you?"

"It doesn't. I mean, not directly. But Rachel... My friend and roommate, Rachel... She won the Tony Award for Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical last night."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes, I guess. I mean, I wouldn't want to be around if she had lost it, that's for sure."

"Am I right to believe that it was a big deal to your friend?"

"Are you kidding me? Rachel dreamed about this day her whole life. She lives for the theater, for her career, for singing. She's the most determined person I've ever known. It's not a _big_ deal, it's a _huge_ deal. It is _the_ deal, for her. It proved all her life was worthy of something. We could see that in her eyes... She was... Oh, man... I can't describe."

"So Rachel was happy. You seemed to be happy for her as well. What was the problem about the Tony Award?"

"The problem wasn't really the Award itself. It was more what happened after that."

"Do you want to tell me what happened after?"

"Well, I don't know if I can. Honestly, I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

"We can try to figure it out together."

"Ahn... There was this party. You know, to celebrate the award. All of our friends were there. Kurt and I planned it for weeks. Rachel was on and off, but we knew she was going to win the fucking Tony and would want everybody there to spoil her afterwards. So we had a full house."

"Right."

"And of course everybody was fussing over Rachel, and she was loving it. I could see this from miles away. So, you know, I was just in my corner, waiting for a chance to calmly talk to her. I really wasn't feeling like getting in the middle of the crowd just to scream 'well done!' to her."

"Ok, let me see if I got the scene. There was a party after Rachel won the Tony Award. Everybody was congratulating her, but you didn't."

"No, it's not like that. I would congratulate her, of course! I was just waiting to do so in a quieter moment."

"Right. Go on."

"Wait. Are you taking notes?" I ask when I look up at her again.

Hazel is now wearing small glasses that she adjusts with a finger when it slides down her nose. She has a notebook and a pencil in her hands and I'm not sure where they came from nor when.

"Oh, yeah. I just write some details down so I don't have to keep asking you things over and over again. Is that ok?"

"Ahm... I guess it is..."

"Ok. You may continue."

"Right. Where was I?"

"You were waiting for a good moment to congratulate Rachel."

"Yes, that. So I spent the night with this friend of ours, Quinn."

"When you say 'spent the night' you mean...?"

"Oh, no! No, it's not like that." I chuckle at the thought. "No, Quinn and I are just friends. Not even friends with bennefits. Not anymore, at least. Not for years now."

"I see. Is she a friend of Rachel as well?"

"Yeah, sure. I mean, not as close as I am, I suppose. They like each other, but I guess Rachel will always feel a bit intimidate by Quinn. Not that she should, but she's a bit insecure, sometimes."

"And why is that?"

"Why she feels intimidate? Good question. Why a fucking Tony Award winner would feel intimidate by any woman? Quinn is just... Well, pretty. Really pretty. Hollywood star pretty. And in high school that mattered. But now... Rachel's just... She's bigger than that."

"Do you think she knows it?"

"If she didn't before, she found out last night, right?"

"Because of the award."

"Yeah. And the standing ovation. And the ass kissing. All that crap. From everyone."

"Except from you."

"I was just waiting..."

"For the right moment, I know. Did that right moment come?"

"Yes. Kind of. That's when things get weird."

"Why is that?"

"We bumped into each other at the bathroom's door. I was coming out, she was trying to get in."

_"Hey. Congratulations." I said when she looked up at me._

_"On what?"_

_"On winning the Tony, of course."_

_"Oh, you noticed?"_

_"Why are you being all sarcastic?"_

_"I'm not." Rachel answered, but she totally was, so I followed her when she entered the bathroom and closed the door. _

_"I was just waiting for the crowd around you to vanish."_

_"Really? From where I was standing, you were just waiting to vanish with Quinn."_

_"What? Rachel, you know very well that..."_

_"Are you even happy for me?"_

_"What?"_

_"Do you even think I deserved it? The award?"_

_"Rach! Of course you do! Are you crazy, Berry? Are you high? You're awesome. You totally, completely deserved to win this. It was only fair, come on. There was no one to even compete with you in a fair way and..."_

_That was the moment she kissed me. I swear I never saw it coming. Next thing I knew, her lips were on mine. If I gotta be honest, I could have pushed her away. I'm not sure why I didn't. Rachel's mouth tasted like wine and mint. I just kissed her back. _

_Did it feel good? Well, I'm not sure. She's a weird kisser. She makes this noise all along the kiss. Like her throat is trying to contain a moan all the time. Maybe it turned me on, ok? But maybe I was just drunk. And maybe I liked the way she stood up on her tiptoes and pulled my hair hungrily. But maybe I was just really drunk. _

_"What are you doing?"_

_"I'm awesome. You said I'm awesome."_

_"And because of that, I should kiss you?"_

_"Well... yes."_

_You see, that's a pretty drunk logic. But I did, though. I kissed her again. I actually... I remember kind of pushing her over the sink and caressing her stomach with my nails. I guess that made her moan. I guess that's why I kept doing it. _

_Until someone opened the door. It was a friend of somebody's girlfriend or something like that. No one that we know. But Rachel jumped out of the sink really fast. And I guess I jumped out of fantasyland._

_The moment we stepped out of the bathroom, Quinn came along. She took us both by the arms and we were too dizzy to do anything else than following her. We got drinks and we stared weirdly at each other. Then other people surrounded us and I barely saw Rachel again until the end of the night. _

"And how do you feel about that?" Hazel asks, adjusting her glasses once more.

"About what?"

"About the fact that Rachel didn't look for you again yesterday."

Goddamn, this girl really knows how to ask the right questions. I fucking hate the fact that Rachel let me stand there all night long, watching her from distance like I was just another fan trying to steal some glow from her big star.

"I understand. She was all excited about the Tony and all her friends were there..." I lie and Hazel frowns.

"And what about the kiss?"

"She was drunk."

"And do you think that's all?"

"Pretty much. I mean, what other reason would she have to kiss me like that in the bathroom in the middle of her Tony Award winning party?"

"Well, it seemed like she was a bit upset by the fact you had, until that moment, spent the night in the company of other girl."

"I was fucking waiting for..."

"I know, Santana. But maybe Rachel didn't know. You say she was loving all the fuss around her, right?"

"Yeah, she was totally loving it."

"But you were not a part of it, though. Doesn't matter the reason, as far as Rachel knew, you preferred to be around this Quinn girl. Who happened to be the one Rachel felt intimidated by during her whole adolescence, right?"

"Ahm... I guess..."

"And just last night, who seemed to be Rachel's glory night, the night that, in your own words, proved to Rachel she was bigger than she thought... You chose Quinn."

"I did not!"

"Ok, but maybe Rachel saw it this way."

"So she kissed me? How does that make any sense?"

"I don't know. How?"

"What? Are you saying that kiss was Rachel's way to call my attention? To divert me from Quinn?"

"Do you think that's what happened?"

"She had everyone at her feet last night. Why would she bother doing that to get my attention?"

"Why do you think?"

"Are you saying my attention was that important to her?"

"Do you feel like your attention was a big deal to Rachel?"

"Well, she did kiss me!"

"Yes, she did."

"So... I... Maybe..." I sigh heavily and get up again. My body is sore from lying in that bench all this time. I think about the way Rachel kissed me and the way she looked at me when Quinn approached us. A look full of expectations. But what the hell was she expecting? Is it possible that she was expecting me to kiss her again? Even with Quinn right there? "No... I guess she was just drunk. I've seen Rachel drunk before. She kisses anyone."

"Well, she is your friend, you must know her."

"Yeah..."

I'm not sure I know her that well, though. I couldn't sleep all night long, thinking about all that madness and by morning Rachel just showed up in my room, offering me a cup of coffee. Like nothing weird happened. She seemed pretty happy with herself.

_"So, about last night..."_

_"You were drunk, happy, high, it was a mistake, you're sorry, I know."_

_"Ahm..." Rachel bit her lower lip and I tried not to want so bad to bite it too. "Yes, I guess... I was actually wondering if you wanted to come with me and my parents to this breakfast at Tiffany's. It was their idea, I swear. But it's going to be fun..."_

_"I have a date."_

_"What?"_

_"I have a date this morning."_

_"Oh. Can't you reschedule?"_

_"No, I can't."_

I'm not sure I know myself very well by now.

"I'm sorry, but our time's up." Hazel says, looking at her clock for a moment.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, I gotta go. I have to work, as I said..."

"What do you do for a living ?" I ask as I realize I talked and talked about myself and Hazel never told me anything about her. She sure must be a psychologist or something.

"I work at Barney's male clothing department."

"Oh. That explains why Kurt knows you so well."

"Yes, he goes there a lot." Hazel smiles and gets up. "I'm sorry, I really have to go."

"Ok, sure." I get up too and kiss her on the cheeks.

"Good lucky with the Rachel thing."

"Oh, there's not a Rachel thing, really."

"Uhm. Ok, then. Bye bye."

"Hazel!" I call when she's a few steps away. She looks at me over her shoulder. "Was that a good date?"

"No way. That date sucked."

"Yeah. I thought so."


End file.
